<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>The Night Becomes Our Own by SaintJoan</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28580637">The Night Becomes Our Own</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaintJoan/pseuds/SaintJoan'>SaintJoan</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Sound of Music - Rodgers/Hammerstein/Lindsay &amp; Crouse</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aftercare, Angst, BDSM, Bondage, Breathplay, Dirty Talk, Discipline, Dom/sub, Domination, F/M, Falling In Love, Feelings Realization, Marriage, Master/Pet, Praise Kink, Purity Kink, Religious Guilt, Repressed Feelings, Romance, Self-Discovery, Self-Pleasure, Sexual Tension, Smut, Spanking, Submission, Teacher/Student, True Love, Whipping, joy, sexual awakening, spirituality</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 05:21:48</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>44,228</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28580637</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaintJoan/pseuds/SaintJoan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"From you, Fräulein, I know I could never ask for... obedience." What starts as discipline soon spirals into something far deeper... A slow-burn love story, in which Georg teaches Maria about the ways of the world - and desire. Canon-compliant with explicit smut and the love of a lifetime.</p><p>WIP. Updating regularly.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Georg von Trapp/Maria von Trapp</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>142</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>124</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Ask me to behave</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Image credit: cinemagal</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p>Nothing but a metallic <em>tock- tock- tock</em>- was to be heard from the study of Georg von Trapp. </p><p>Outside a breeze, portent to the ripe climax of summer, entwined itself in the trees, now black and thick with night. A shutter collided against the pane, hinges groaning in the summer current.</p><p>The Captain raised his tumbler to his mouth. His eyes were downcast, distant. He pressed the crystal against his bottom lip and took in a slow, mindful sip. </p><p>A warm swell of July air sighed against his neck as he swirled a chip of ice around his tongue. </p><p>He inhaled deeply and glanced upon the golden face of the wall clock, once a gift from his grandfather.</p><p><em> Late</em>.</p><p>His jaw clenched. </p><p>As time tripped on, Georg drank again, modestly, but with relish. The pads of his fingers trailed in circles against the arm of his chair - cherry wood. Its sleekness had always pleased him. </p><p>Distractedly he cracked the ice between his teeth, hazy ideas drifting through his consciousness. Letting his head fall back against the leather, Georg sighed and listened once more to the mechanics of the clock. </p><p>And then he heard it: the gentle closing of a faraway door. Senses alert, a flare of energy flickered deep within him. He tilted his head, breath stilled to hear the careful tread of his governess moving across the hall.</p><p>“Fräulein Maria.”</p><p>Intense and purposeful, his call did not need to be loud to command; it was naturally woven with the timbre of authority. </p><p>Slowly, the Captain leant forwards in his chair. Then, after a short silence, she appeared.</p><p>“Good evening, Captain,” Maria nodded with an air of finality, immediately withdrawing into the shadows of the hall.</p><p>“Fräulein...” Georg cautioned. He was not finished with her. </p><p>Maria’s face reappeared, illuminated in the amber hue of lamplight. </p><p>Georg ran his fingers along the rim of his glass.</p><p>“It’s late-” he began simply, a torrid undercurrent woven into his tone.</p><p>“Indeed,” Maria brushed off with a polite smile, “I’m sorry to have disturbed you, Captain. Goodnight.”</p><p>“Fräulein...” Georg warned.</p><p>Maria sighed and closed her eyes. There was no option but to obey.</p><p>Georg watched as stepped into the study, hands clasped at her abdomen, shoes dangling from her fingers.</p><p>Lifting her chin, Maria stared him down with a haughty kind of openness.</p><p>Despite himself, Georg’s composure faltered as he took her in: a monument of defiant virtue. </p><p>To Maria, her bodice suddenly felt tight across her ribcage. It constricted her breathing, chest rising and falling rapidly beneath her linen blouse.</p><p>She gripped the leather straps of her sandals tightly, eyebrows raised in detached anticipation. She did not see the flicker of pleasure her tension provoked in the Captain. Nor how it renewed him. She saw only the rich, angry passion of a stern and disciplined man. </p><p>As Georg rose to stand behind his desk, the air seemed to prickle and contract.</p><p>Maria eyed the light scar beneath his mouth, swallowing nervously. It was as if his presence had shaken the very particles around her, a brooding ship parting the summer tides.</p><p>Her pulse raced beneath her skin, but she hid it well.</p><p>“Fräulein, when you first entered my house, what was it I told you?”</p><p>“You implied, sir, there were rules to be obeyed.”</p><p>“Indeed. To be obeyed and not broken-”</p><p>“Captain, I made no such promise when I arrived-”</p><p>“Indeed, you did not, Fräulein-”</p><p>“And I am not one of your children-”</p><p>“Nor have I mentioned it since-”</p><p>“Destined to be governed by a whistle-”</p><p>“But when it comes to my children’s governess-”</p><p>“Commanded here and commanded there-”</p><p>“Slipping from my house to God knows where in the dead of night-”</p><p>“Oh really, Captain! This is ridiculous...”</p><p>“Ridiculous?” he glowered, tasting the word on his tongue.</p><p>Georg stepped out the shadow that had obscured him from Maria’s view. The breath stilled in her chest.</p><p>Lamplight glinted against the buttons of his jacket, a pearly trail leading up to his throat, now exposed to the summer air. His tie was loosened and offered a hint of his clavicle; the taut line of his chest. </p><p>For the vestal Maria, the intimacy of it was dizzying. </p><p>A shadow had begun to form across the Captain’s jaw, aching for the touch of his morning blade. His hair was tousled and dark, a loose wave falling across his forehead. </p><p>Maria’s hubris dissolved like sugar. She felt as if she had unknowingly breached some private space, one where this hidden swain could emerge, free from the gaze of his a family and guests.</p><p>Here in the dark of his study, his star ascended, luminous, wild and masculine.</p><p>“I am the master of this house,” Georg began, deliberate and sardonic, “am I not?”</p><p>“Yes, sir,” Maria reluctantly replied.</p><p>“Charged to guide, and censure, as I deem fit...”</p><p>Georg was too comfortable in his authority. He wore it like something fine and filigreed, glinting darkly in all his armoured beauty. </p><p>The space between them began to dwindle. </p><p>“Yes, sir,” Maris answered, “I suppose it is. But I do not see-”  </p><p>“And is it also not I,” Georg continued, moving closer, “on whom responsibility for your wellbeing falls?”</p><p>This query was more measured than the rest. Careful even. </p><p>Maria searched his face for meaning but found him opaque. </p><p>“Captain?” A small crease had gathered at the bridge of her nose.</p><p>Feeling bristled beneath Georg’s familiar stoicism, but he offered her no reply. Instead his gaze wandered to her throat. The scent of the sun radiated off her. </p><p>“Fräulein,” He began, quieter now. “From you I know I could never ask for,” his eyes met hers, “<em>obedience.</em> But I will ask you to refrain from wandering around the grounds at so late an hour.”</p><p>“Oh but, Captain…!” Maria sighed, “If you could have only heard how the breeze moved through the trees and the evensong of the birds- seen the <em> fullness </em> of the moon,” she instinctively started towards the window, her voice full of wonder. “I know it’s unorthodox to be out of doors so late but it was calling to me you see, and I just <em> had </em> to be a part of it!” </p><p>Tracking her movements, the Captain softened in her jubilance. He felt her voice ring within him, clear as a glacial spring. </p><p>“If you had seen it, truly heard it like I had...” Maria could feel him behind her. She turned, “even <em> you </em> could not have helped-”</p><p>She bit her tongue, unable, it seemed, to control herself.</p><p>“‘<em>Even I</em>’...?” Georg frowned with calculated seriousness. Her words had been insulting and ignorant, yet he met her with a playful glimmer.</p><p>Despite herself, Maria laughed, turning her face away. </p><p>Georg noted the blush of her neck and was soothed by her sudden shyness.</p><p>Maintaining his air of detachment, he looked down at her with curiosity. Mind muddy, his senses sang. The feelings were dizzying and unnerving.</p><p>He yearned to touch her; stroke her cheek; brush his fingers along her back. It was shameful and weak - entirely unbecoming of a man of his rank and stature.</p><p>In all her life, Maria had never been this close to a man - perhaps only her father, long ago lost to war.</p><p>The Captain’s frame was broad, lithe and strong, and the scent of his cologne, faded from the day, lingered like an opiate.</p><p>Even in her relative naivety, Maria understood the power the Captain’s presence had on others - his ability to captivate - but now, standing so near, his aura felt like something physical: like she could reach out and touch it, lean against it and never fall. </p><p>Georg slowly curled his fingers into his palms, withdrawing from himself - and from Maria. Understanding was dawning uncomfortably; he worked to cool himself to stone.</p><p>Maria looked up breathlessly. “Forgive me, Captain...” </p><p>To Georg, already unsteadied, the request was incendiary. To have her plead beneath him, tender and disarmed was a sublime torment.</p><p>The clock chimed as he unravelled in her gaze, soft and innocent beneath her lashes. He felt himself burn for her, her words inexorable fuel. </p><p>Yet her virtue loomed over them as a veil. </p><p>Heady, hungry and seemingly appeased, the Captain nodded at her in reply. <em> Forgiven</em>.</p><p>Agitated in body and mind, he turned away, moving back to the familiarity of his desk.</p><p>Pulse racing and penitent, Maria found him hard to read. In an echo of her fluster, she smoothed her pinafore.</p><p>Perhaps he wanted her to leave.</p><p>As he returned his chair, Georg pulled a ledger towards him, briefly brushing his lower lip with his thumb. Although steady for now, he felt a strong need to occupy himself. Sitting back down, he scanned the content of his papers, the picture of purposeful ease. </p><p>“That will be all, Fräulein,” he instructed. He did not look up. </p><p>“I understand, sir. I’ll bid you goodnight.” </p><p>Maria moved as a breeze, keen to be forgotten as quickly as possible. </p><p>“Would you like me to close the door, Captain?”</p><p>“Hmm?” He replied distractedly. <em>Forgotten already.</em> “Oh. Yes, Fräulein. Thank you.”</p><p>Maria did as he asked, glad to disappear into the cold quiet of the hall.</p><p>Hovering above the brass handle, her hand trembled. She thrust it into her pocket, feeling foolish and confused. </p><p>Her breathing was too loud, too quick; she was sure he could hear it through the door. </p><p>Grasping her shoes close as she fled, Maria soundlessly disappeared into the shadows of the house. </p><p>When he finally sensed her departure, Georg lowered his head and closed his eyes.</p><p>His body ached, hungry and alive, and he lacked the energy to resist it. </p><p>Something in him had awoken in the dark. <em> Maria </em>had awoken it. Those coy and pleading eyes; her whispered entreaties... </p><p>Georg threw back the last promise of liquor in a bid to extinguish his vicious yearning. </p><p>He eyed his ribboned medals, displayed inconspicuously at the back of a cabinet.</p><p>He remembered the whirr of submarine propellers, the hundreds of men under his charge. </p><p>Picking up his pen, he stilled himself and began to write. </p><p>He would not be undone. Not by this novice. Not now. </p><p>
  <em>Oh, Georg… </em>
</p><p>How little did he know.  </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Show me who you are</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Image credit: goldenageestate</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p>Laying silently on his bed, Georg waited for Elsa to fall asleep.</p><p>Himself wide awake, he rested heavy against his headboard, dressed in his dinner suit and intermittently checking his pocket watch. </p><p>Her guest room - the one with the finest view of the mountains - stood nearby, and while he had recognised her half-hope that he would slip into her bed one warm evening, he had resolved to leave their metropolitan fashions behind.</p><p>And so Georg waited, slowly rotating an acorn Marta had given him between his fingers, eyes distant and contemplative as he thought about the Baroness. </p><p>In his way, Georg adored her. Sumptuous and refined, her ability to divert was unparalleled. </p><p>In the handsome salons of her Viennese townhouse, their easy chemistry had been a pleasurable escape. They had larked and caroused long into many a night, surrounded, it felt, by a never-ending cavalcade of exquisite gowns, sparkling acquaintances and the finest champagnes.</p><p>Georg had not been disingenuous when he told her she’d been a kind of saviour to him; their countless jubilant hours had offered a world of colour, suspending him distractedly from the gloom of his sad, shattered life.</p><p>And although there lived something cynical in it, to feel such <em> blitheness </em> after so great a loss was enough to make him lean into the abandon mindlessly.</p><p>Their breezy repartee made him socially agile, sharpening his ability to distance himself from reality - and his heart. He felt himself roguish in her company. She made him young and carefree, like the hedonistic and worryless buck he’d been before he wed, those many years ago. </p><p>Uncomplicated, modern and unabashed, the Baroness endured as a reliably charming chime in the cacophony of any crowd. Ever in vogue, she instinctively knew what to say, what to wear, where to go and who to befriend. </p><p>She was witty, educated and rich, alive with the kind of zest only a woman of her stature and experience could exude. And he admired her for it.</p><p>For the lost, self-restricted Georg, Elsa hailed a welcome respite, a decadent holiday from the empty echo of his home - one he could imagine himself hiding within for many an enchanting season. </p><p>Most vitally though, Elsa had illustrated the value of performance.</p><p>Silently instructing him in the art, she allowed him to disguise his pensive, deep-feeling nature behind a mask of sheer complaisance.</p><p>Together they played the social elite, swapping deep conversation for bubbling witticisms.</p><p>And their shared theatre had thawed him, transforming his icy existence to something genuinely endurable. </p><p>Through Elsa, romantic affection had once again become possible, if not the all-encompassing swell of deep, eternal love.</p><p>Yet while expertly painted with the colours of sparkling civility, in truth, remoteness remained. The magic had done little to ease the distance between himself and his children and their relationship served as a happy diversion at best.</p><p>That, he supposed was the irony: their dance made it difficult for them to truly touch. </p><p>Elsa had been right. He did feel more at home here in the hush of the countryside, and their flirtful, intimate ways had begun to feel dissonant against the bright, earnest joy that now filled the house.</p><p>Georg could not yet imagine how Elsa and his children would adapt to each other.</p><p>Could he envision them flocking about her waist, as chirruping cygnets to their swan?</p><p>Could he imagine her conversing at pace with his lively, inquisitive sons?</p><p>Could Georg see Elsa sitting on a boat with them all, falling haplessly into the water, her simple play-dress heavy and soaked by the mountain springs?</p><p>He smiled…</p><p>Checking his watch one final time, Georg rose from his bed. He switched off his lamp, moving carefully as he ran fingers along the wall.</p><p>His door closed softly against his back and he instinctively glanced to where his governess slept across the villa. He waited for a moment, tilting his chin as he searched the halls for signs of life. </p><p>Slowly, Georg moved along the balcony, his polished shoes quiet against the carpet.</p><p>From their doors rooms emanated only darkness, their dreams closed away from the movements of the house.</p><p>He ran his hand along the banister as he circled the top of the staircase, stealing a final glance towards Maria’s quarters before it fell out of view.</p><hr/><p>The library was not as cool as he would have hoped.</p><p>Feeling at leisure, Georg skimmed the backs of his fingers along the books as he passed, recognising their spines from familiarity alone.</p><p>Reading had always been a pleasure for him; he exalted in the finery of written worlds, and even as a boy had a deep passion for learning.</p><p>His mind discerning and impossibly sharp, Georg had surmised early that wisdom and experience were the most efficient ammunition. </p><p>Poetry had made him romantic; tales of adventure, curious.</p><p>He consumed history, science, philosophy, the classics, always searching for something new to discover in the old dark lines.</p><p>Georg removed his jacket and threw it onto a chair.</p><p>For years he had slipped amongst the bookshelves, communing with old friends as he read alone in the dark.</p><p>Tonight, as he ambled along the leathered rows, the fingers of his hand wriggled unconsciously at his side, just as they always had when his mind was occupied. </p><p>As he came to a stop he craned his neck, blue eyes straining in the dark as he glanced upon the titles. </p><p>He casually plucked one from its hideaway, leafing through the pages as he hid himself in the window seat. Georg chuckled to himself at his selection. <em>Byron</em>. </p><p>“Of course…” he muttered satirically. </p><p>The moon still loomed bright and the walls were cool - an ideal combination for his solitary meditation. </p><p>For many minutes, he leant his head against the glass and drank in the half-forgotten prose. Some pieces he skipped, others he read twice, his mind winding merrily around the expert composition.</p><p>But as he turned another page, Georg’s heart fluttered uncomfortably. </p><p>Sad, dark adrenaline pooled in his belly as it sank low and quick.</p><p>His pulse lashed as he read.</p><p>
  <em>When we two parted</em>
</p><p>
  <em> In silence and tears, </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Half broken-hearted </em>
</p><p>
  <em> To sever for years, </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Pale grew thy cheek and cold, </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Colder thy kiss; </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Truly that hour foretold </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Sorrow to this.</em>
</p><p>Grief, long-stilled and half-forgotten, now writhed inside him.</p><p>Memories of that most hateful day battered Georg’s psyche; the day Agathe left them, her body flushed and swollen with the fever that would finally take her life.</p><p>Georg squeezed his eyes shut as the desperate moans of his children, distraught at their loss, reverberated around his mind. </p><p>It remained a sorry, desolate chorus, one he swore he’d never hear again - he forbade it. Indeed, the sound had accosted him for many years thereafter, a miserable symphony too easily evoked. </p><p>But while the echoes of his pain loomed loud, mercifully, their sting was muted. Just like the fever that ravaged his late wife, grief too had taken its time to break. And when it finally cleared, some time ago now, while the ache had lessened, dullness remained. </p><p>In his children he saw only the absence of a mother: his own inability to nurture and soothe and play.</p><p>His dear Agathe lived still in Liesl’s knowing smile, Louisa’s hue and the way Kurt frowned and sulked. And though Brigitta’s sensibility held up as his own, he knew the giggles of Friedrich and Gretl too well to claim them as purely <em> von Trapp</em>. </p><p>Georg unconsciously reached for his pocket, feeling Marta’s acorn-gift, small and innocent beneath his palm. Envisioning the glow of her rose-apple cheeks, he smiled. </p><p>His breath easing, Georg lifted the book from his lap and turned the next leaf, once again losing himself in the small, frayed script.</p><hr/><p>Perhaps it had been hours, but the Captain stayed long after the last of the evening birds had whistled their goodnights.</p><p>One knee bent up against the pane, he felt content.</p><p>As his gaze ran along the short streams of verse he nibbled at his inner lip, listening listlessly as the house began to settle in the heat.</p><p>But the calm, open expression of his face soon hardened as the library door creaked open.</p><p>He sighed quietly, unsure which of the many faces were about to disturb his rare chapter of peace. </p><p>While it took a moment for her to emerge from the gloom, the lissome frame was unmistakable.</p><p>
  <em> Maria... </em>
</p><p>Georg’s eyebrows lifted in pleasant surprise and in spite of himself, he smiled.</p><p>He went to call for her, but quickly refrained.</p><p>From his seat, he knew himself to be obscured from her sight, and besides, they had not been alone since their flurried late night exchange in his study. </p><p>Now matured, the carefully cultivated curiosity of his boyhood flickered within him. He frowned down at his watch. Like himself, she too remained robed in her dinner dress. </p><p>As he placed his book down beside him, Georg leant back into his seat to observe his governess softly padding along the tiles; his head tilted imperceptibly as he followed her path from the break in the curtains.</p><p>In this dim light, her face was near impossible to see.</p><p>Instead he read the line of her spine- the open wonder of her shoulders. </p><p>He enjoyed the way she attentively inclined her chin...</p><p>Georg watched gladly as Maria ran her hands along the books, taking in the shelves, row by row, column by column.</p><p>Behind her, her dress flowed like water, glowing softly in the dark.</p><p>Intertwined with his steady breathing, he discerned her quiet humming; it echoed faintly against the floor, seeming to swell and dissipate between the thin, swaying veil of the window’s lace. </p><p>As she unhurriedly studied his collection of fiction, Georg’s eyebrow arched as he recognised the book she went to pull from the shelf.</p><p>Fortuitously printed in the original English, it would remain a mystery to her, but he had once known passages of the sordid 17th century text by heart.</p><p>Whisking it away from his family library, it had offered him welcome glimmers of a life to come- a first education in the joys of earthly pleasures.</p><p>As Maria stroked her fingers along its disreputable pages, Georg felt his blood begin to burn.</p><p><em>Did she dream as he did</em>, he wondered, <em>of searing mouths against her skin; of breathy groans sighed into the dark…</em></p><p>He brought his knuckle to his mouth, brushing it against his lips as his eyes narrowed in broody surveillance.</p><p>Maria revealed the fire that blistered within her the moment she roared him down by the lake.</p><p>The girl was a living contradiction; an enchanting, vital addition to his home - and her nature, once deemed puckish now felt profound: a complex contrast to everyone around her.</p><p>Maria’s was a particular kind of genius. It left no stone unturned, and no mask unchecked.</p><p>Georg found her bewildering, refreshed and unsettled by her constant ability to surprise.</p><p>Maria was <em> unexpected</em>.</p><p>Almost as soon as she’d entered his house, her singularity proved a potent distraction.</p><p>This bright young woman spoke to him as no other had ever dared, yet he found her existence gratifying- a remedy to an unknown ailment. </p><p>Maria returned the novel to its place and swept along the remaining cases, pausing briefly to admire the large leather volumes on the highest shelf. Georg exhaled a silent laugh: <em> Austro-Hungarian naval history. </em></p><p>But as the chill of the glass permeated his sleeve, Georg shivered. It was then he remembered his jacket, strewn over the arm of a nearby chair.</p><p>His gaze darted over to Maria. The glimmer of his buttons were faint, but she had not seemed to notice. </p><p>With a quickening pulse he knew he would not be able to explain his presence easily. But there was no possibility of revealing his silent observation either, nor of giving his secret pleasure away. </p><p>Georg’s jaw tensed, shoulders flexing with his sense of vulnerability and the threatened loss of discretion. </p><p>But before the cool sweat on his brow could build, Maria brushed her final stroke along the shelves and let her arm fall to her side. He relaxed into the wall, watching judiciously as with a grace uniquely her own, Maria left the library.</p><p>After a time, his body began to calm. And as silence fell around him like a dust, Georg emerged from his hiding place.</p><p>One by one, he rolled down his sleeves, carefully buttoning them back at the cuff. As he walked back to the shelves, he flipped open one last page.</p><p>
  <em>She walks in beauty, like the night </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Of cloudless climes and starry skies; </em>
</p><p>
  <em> And all that’s best of dark and bright </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Meet in her aspect and her eyes. </em>
</p><p>As Georg gently slotted the book back into its station, the hum of a brief baritone chuckle rumbled in his chest. He smiled and shook his head softly, uncertain of whether to mock or savour the poetic symmetry. </p><p>These fleeting thoughts of Maria had started to feel dangerous. </p><p>His body ached and thrummed. </p><p>His skin felt hot.</p><p>By summer’s end she would be gone, he self-soothed. All would cool, no trace of her left but the warm melody of his children’s voices, now lifted from their gloom. </p><p>Georg rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hand.</p><p>
  <em>He just needed some sleep…</em>
</p><p>Retrieving his jacket, he returned to his bedroom, working to ensure his arrival remained as clandestine as his departure.</p><p>As the latch finally clicked into place, Georg leant against his door and sighed.</p><p>And when the image of Maria, luminous and surprising in dark, resurfaced against his will, Georg convinced himself the infatuation was but a fancy.</p><p>The symptom, he supposed, of one too many novels... </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I always felt Georg realised his feelings much sooner than Maria. As an experienced man, aware of his own desires, I wanted to explore the journey that has lead him to their dom/sub kink and what is about to unfurl between them.</p><p>Thank you for reading!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Let me sleep</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Image credit: graysonsdick</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p>Maria feared she would never sleep again.</p><p>Hours had now slinked by, slipping through the sheets and out of sight, uncaptured and never to be seen again.</p><p>A peach stream of light had begun to permeate the sky, and while still late, morning threatened to break its way through the dark.</p><p>Increasingly desperate, Maria sighed moodily, throwing her arms down against the bedcover. Like everything in the villa, it was of the finest quality - every stitch superior, every feather faultless.</p><p>The new drapes (silk, patterned, pink, perfect) began to sway with a breeze, but did little to cool her feverish body.</p><p>The air was so close: desperate, unforgivingly warm and entirely inescapable.</p><p><em>Was he sleeping,</em> she wondered languidly.</p><p>Maria pulled at the collar of her nightgown. Against the fine embroidery of the bedlinen it seemed shamefully mute and humble. The starched lace pulled at her throat, scratching her skin, now covered in a fine sheen of perspiration. The gown bound itself up in her legs, coiling about her thighs and her hips, never quite able to stay where it should.</p><p>But at the centre of all this pretty torture burned he.</p><p>Sitting as a phantom at the foot of her bed, his face was seared into the shadows of night.</p><p>His refined, noble features: the eyes that seemed to sooth and to pierce. The elegant ring upon elegant hands...</p><p>“Oh for pity’s sake!” Maria fumed, throwing an arm over her head.</p><p>Meditating into the dark, Maria revisited the soft and secret way he watched his children.</p><p>She had seen how his love for them radiated from his whole being, so joyful and so proud. She smiled at the memories - the way his children idolised him. He was easy, Maria supposed, to admire.</p><p>Yet beneath this she felt frenetic, forever corrupted by the masculine, earthy scent of him. </p><p>The power of his gaze felt holy - the timbre of his voice, a tonic.</p><p><em>What would it be,</em> Maria imagined, <em>to have his mouth graze her throat…</em></p><p>Her breath began to quicken. To calm herself she placed a careful hand upon her chest. She closed her eyes, letting her fingers stroke her sternum, back and forth in sensual abandon.</p><p>Maria considered his clear intelligence; the effortless way his words could govern and disarm.</p><p>He was so unlike herself - so in command - and his ability to express so much with such economy; the minute gestures, quicksilver expressions, the language of his eyes - it left her dizzy.</p><p>Sometimes Maria half-imaged the Captain was speaking just to her, his meaning hidden in coded words and forceful looks. Just like the one two nights ago in his study…</p><p>But she was forgetting herself. </p><p>She was just a guest; his governess; <em>an</em> <em>employee</em>.</p><p>And he: he was a celebrated member of the gentry, a revered naval officer with the finest education and experience life could offer.</p><p>They hailed from different worlds.</p><p>She was jubilant and earnest, a penniless postulant most at home amongst the Austrian flora.</p><p>He was aloof and forbidding, a secret hedonist enraptured by structure, order and restraint.</p><p>Maria frowned to herself. The Captain harboured no clear appreciation for the things that mattered most; no love of music, of nature, of adventure and play… and yet, beneath his air of civility ran something that seemed purely <em>Dionysiac</em>.</p><p>It was all there, masked in the way he held his mouth, the flash in his eyes: a wild, hidden world he only hinted at.</p><p>His was a language she could not speak, but yearned to know.</p><p>In the Captain’s presence, Maria knew herself to be unworldly and naive - and standing beside the exquisite Baroness, she felt nothing short of plain.</p><p>But, in her deepest spirit, Maria felt herself his equal.</p><p>She sensed her words, clumsy as they sometimes were, truly reached him - that he met her with consideration, balance and give, as summer does the spring.</p><p>When he eyed her with suspicion and curiosity, Maria felt he wanted to know more of her - perhaps all - to leave her bare and exposed, with nowhere to hide.</p><p>And Maria wanted it. To see him and be seen. To be consumed by his gaze, his words, his being; to give herself fully.</p><p>Praying for forgiveness, Maria blushed into the night. She knew now sleep would not come now.</p><p>Rising from her pillows she let herself be held by the stillness of the house. </p><p>Sitting in peaceful prayer, she hovered for some minutes amongst the bedclothes, now pooled around her waist. </p><p>As a girl, Maria had always loved this time of night, full of magic and hope for the hours ahead. Now all were sleeping and the new dawn was hers. She looked to the window, finding the first peals of amber sun.</p><p>The floor was cool as she moved across it, reaching for the curtains that hushed in the breeze. They were pleasurable to touch. She ran her fingers through them, enjoying the way they felt against her skin. With a soft sigh, Maria pulled them aside and breathed in the refreshing, dusky air.</p><p>It was then she saw him, making his way through the early morning mist. Barefoot, he moved with grace across the stones, flowing down the steps as he approached the glassy water.</p><p>His trousers were loose fitting and casual, their light colour singing in the dark. His chest was clad in a long-sleeved undershirt: it looked plain and tight fitting, something practical, perhaps, from his naval days.</p><p>Maria brushed her lips against the back of her hand. The Captain’s hair fell about his forehead, free and wavy from his bed. </p><p>She gripped the curtain tightly as she peered through the window, working to make out every detail in the bluish light.</p><p>The Captain ran a hand through his dishevelled, sable locks and lowered his palm to gently massage his neck. </p><p>Maria watched with shy hunger as he too breathed in the cool, sweet air and stretched his arms out behind him. Clad in the thin sleeves, they were lithe, toned and strong. It felt shameful to admire him so, yet he seemed such a part of the nature around him.</p><p>Her heart racing like prey, Maria hid herself as the Captain looked up, she thought, towards her window. She felt foolish as she remembered his children sleeping nearby and reprimanded herself for such a liberal assumption.</p><p>Half obscured by the trees, the Captain had slipped into the water, disappearing without disturbance before Maria could notice. </p><p>Finally he emerged, sighing expressively from the cold, clothes clinging hungrily to his body. </p><p>He was beautiful. A glimmering image of Neptune in all his power.</p><p>Maria hoped the Captain would once again look back to where she now hid in the shadows, able to see the expanse of the lake from her safety of her relative obscurity.</p><p>But he merely bobbed in the water, looking up at the mountains as the first birds began to sing. He languished there for some time, clearly at home in its embrace. Then, silently he moved across the surface, arms pulling him smoothly towards the growing light of day and out of Maria’s sight.</p><p>Flustered and uncomfortable she made her way for her bathroom, running herself a cooling bath and readying herself for the day.</p><p>As her fingers laced her bodice, Maria blushed at her spying, shamed by silly notions and her curiosity. </p><p><em>To live under his roof… feel his dominance undulate about the house, like a heat.</em> </p><p>She glanced at her blurred reflection in the steamed mirror, brushing a lock of damp hair from her forehead.</p><p>Maria made her bed and tied back the curtains, flushing at the memory of their fight by the lake. </p><p>His anger had been palpable - menacingly virile. It had radiated through her but she found herself buoyed by its strength, frustration guiding her tongue as she fiercely bit him back.</p><p>She glanced shyly back to the patio where he had stood in the dark - she had tried not to look - but little now remained of him; just a neat trail of dark, wet footprints leading back to the house.</p><p>Angry at herself, Maria fell to her knees at her bed, fingers clasped and eyes shut tight in redemption.</p><p>Silently, clothes tight and transparent from his swim, the Captain passed by Maria’s quarters. </p><p>As he glanced at her door, hand running through his hair, he heard nothing of her desperate prayers - and she nothing of him.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Ask me for it</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Image credit: plummerchristopher</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p>Georg was playing the piano.</p><p>The strokes of his fingers were echoing through the house. They transcended their keys to meet her were she sat, carefully perched on the edge of her bed. </p><p>His hands reached to touch her; the melody was confusing- curious and note by note, they lead her to him.</p><p>Moving unseen through the hall, Maria let his music draw her through the villa, leading her to the ballroom door.</p><p>Carefully, she placed her palms against it and closed her eyes. One after another the chords reverberated against her fingertips.</p><p>Curiosity making her bold, she opened the door, the clack of the latch swallowed by his melody.</p><p>Although darkness filled the room, Maria could still distinguish him in the inky-half light. She leant against the door and let her senses adjust.</p><p>A glint of the moon gleamed from the rim of a brandy glass. The air was cool. In here the tiles were hard and unforgiving, polished, it seemed, to perfection. </p><p>She watched for minutes, silent and enraptured: his invisible audience. His musicality was exquisite, his technique immaculate. Maria watched his strong, elegant hands, tanned from the August sun, run along the keys: easy, passionate, certain. </p><p>Head bowed as he gambolled in the dark, following no sheet music, instead reciting every sound from instinct. </p><p>Maria understood it to be an ambitious piece, but the complex composition, previously so familiar to her, now felt foreign and fine. He commanded it comfortably, radiating effortless grace and proficiency. </p><p>Bewitched, Maria earnestly eyed the man before her. Although the children had hinted at his musicality, she knew him only to be hard and mechanical. But here in the dark he seemed unarmed - a rippling spring current beneath the winter ice. </p><p>The effortless beauty of his execution - his brilliance and his sensuality - filled the air. Her head fell back against the door as she closed her eyes. Listening, feeling, consuming...</p><p>But without warning, Georg’s fingers stilled.</p><p>Silence rang out against the tiles, a thick antithesis to the melodic waves that crashed about the walls. </p><p>He reached for his glass, and savoured the amber dregs of his now-watery liquor.</p><p>“Oh, please,” Maria began, “Don’t stop…”</p><p>Georg’s pulse quickened, mouth twitching above his glass as he frowned in mock seriousness. </p><p>“I was unaware I was under commission...” he provoked, turning his head slightly and taking another sip. </p><p>Georg had been oblivious of his audience, but as soon as the clear, honest ring of her voice had reached him, he knew his late night rhapsody had been designed for her alone. </p><p>It had been a request; a siren call underscored with curiosity and longing. The music was a proposal. And, to his everlasting pleasure, Maria had answered. </p><p>Maria watched the muscles in the Captain’s back flex and contract as he placed his glass atop the piano. </p><p>“I did not know, Captain-” she began unsteadily, “that is to say, you had never mentioned the nature of... you never indicated your proficiency-”</p><p>Georg hid his mirth well, frowning with amusement into the night.</p><p>“<em>Ah</em>…” he replied as he began to play a slower tune. Something dark swelled within him. “One imagines there’s much we don’t know about one another, Fräulein...” His words were thick with meaning. “Would you not agree?” He turned to look at her. Her skin was luminous - angelic. </p><p>“Yes,” Maria replied. “I suppose you’re right.” </p><p>Georg returned his focus to the keys, the dance of his fingers driven by the electrical storm that flickered within him. </p><p>“And men such as I, Fräulein...” he daringly continued. “Are we not entitled to our secrets?”</p><p>His words seemed to meld with the music. </p><p>“You are...” She was trembling.</p><p>“Just as you are yours...”</p><p>Maria did not reply. The Captain's voice oozed like honey: deep, rich and intoxicating. She longed to taste it on her tongue. </p><p>Usually, Maria was unafraid to speak her mind, to challenge him whenever felt necessary - and it was almost always necessary - but here, he was in control.</p><p>Something profound within her begged her to allow it. To give in to his dominion. And to that instinct she gladly acquiesced. </p><p>“Was there something you wished to discuss?” Georg asked after a spell of his improvised adagio.</p><p>As he turned on his seat to face her, hands hanging loosely in his lap, his mirth evaporated.</p><p>
  <em> How beautiful she was. </em>
</p><p>Maria’s heart pounded in her chest. The air between them bristled. </p><p>Silence rang out once more, tolling covertly between them.</p><p>“I did, sir,” Maria began after a moment, making a step towards him, as she did, he noted, whenever she was preparing to face him.</p><p>Georg straightened his back in anticipation, jaw tensed. </p><p>“I know you and I will never agree on certain matters,” she began. They both recalled their fight by the lake, her body saturated and furious against the steely passion of his armour. “I cannot agree with your methods or submit to your will-” </p><p>“That you have made quite clear,” Georg crisply replied, his sternness cooling the room.</p><p>“But,” her voice trembled as she continued on, “there are things to which I <em> will </em> submit.”</p><p>Georg felt the hairs on his neck prickle. His breath slowed as all his senses hushed in anticipation. Blood rushed through his ears. </p><p>“I see,” he countered carefully as he rose off the piano stool. “And what <em> things</em>, Fräulein, would these be?” </p><p>Georg stepped towards her, struggling to withstanding the wild ideas that thrashed within his mind. So lurid... so <em>delicious</em>. </p><p>And then, as clear as spring, Maria answered. “Whatever punishment you see fit for my... <em>transgressions</em>.”</p><p>Silence.</p><p>“Fräulein...” Georg’s voice was husky, thick. </p><p>He had to understand her meaning before he moved another inch. He swallowed, searching her face wildly. His gaze moved over her with precision, ice-blue eyes searching - trying to interpret the words. Hungry. </p><p>Maria couldn't breathe. Standing still like this he looked beautiful and brutal, flickering in the dark like a faraway storm. His hands clenched by his sides.</p><p>“I’m not certain I understand your meaning...”</p><p>“I think you do.”</p><p>“I want you to tell me...”</p><p>
  <em> Tell me.  </em>
</p><p>“You demand obedience,” Maria’s courage faltered and revived in fitful waves, “and I’m telling you, Captain, while I cannot yield in some matters, in others I can. I will.” She paused, adding quietly. “<em>I want to.</em>..”</p><p>Georg sighed as the first light of love splintered his soul open.</p><p><em> What was this feeling? </em>Warm and gentle, like fluid hope. It slipped between his ribs and circled his hips. It cracked him apart, shell breaking loose... </p><p>But with this sweet, momentary yield came something else, roaring wildly from the core of his soul. It was dark and wicked, voracious and demanding. It emboldened and ashamed him. Georg knew it instantly, recognising the violent, animal-like depravity that coiled around him as delectable, sinful, snake.</p><p>Yet in his Maria he recognised a willing servant, her body and spirit his to play with. He had to be sure.</p><p>
  <em>The things he could do to her...</em>
</p><p>“Fräulein, do you understand what it is you are saying?” </p><p>Maria’s body hummed violently as Georg stepped closer, tilting his head as he eyed her like a hunter.</p><p>She raised her chin definitely, belying her nervousness. Her body trembled violently. <em>No, she didn’t.</em></p><p>‘Yes,” she whispered. And then louder, dead in the eye, “I do.”</p><p>“<em>I do,</em> <em><span class="u">sir</span>.</em>” </p><p>“I do… sir.”</p><p>Georg hid the surge of adrenaline that ravaged within him. He could groan for the deep, fearsome pleasure that she had summoned. His breath was heavy in his chest; his pulse felt impossibly loud.</p><p>Maria herself was too inexperienced in the ways of desire to understand the complicated, dizzying sensations in her body, but she knew enough to understand the conflict that effervesced between them. </p><p>“Very well,” Georg replied coolly. “The hour is late. Time you went to bed, Fräulein. Don’t you think?” </p><p>“Yes, Captain,” Maria answered, adding almost inaudibly: “goodnight.” </p><p>“Goodnight” Georg repeated after the door was closed, standing where she left him, motionless.</p><p>He moved towards his piano, coming to hold onto it as an anchor.</p><p>Georg stifled a throaty groan. His cock throbbed, aching and impossibly hard.</p><p>He loosened his tie and closed his eyes tight.</p><p>Then he ran his palm against his thigh, brushing over the long, thick line of his swollen manhood. </p><p>Teeth grit tight, he moaned deeply and briefly wrapped his fingers around the shaft, pulling lightly, tilting his head back in exquisite agony. </p><p>He quickly returned his hand to the piano, determined to regain control of himself. Picking up the glass, cool in his hand, he brought it to his lips. He closed his eyes again as his mind was assaulted with dangerous, sultry images.</p><p>
  <em>Maria smiling across the table in her modest summer dress.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Maria fierce, empowered and wet from the lake.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Maria on her knees, pleading, flushed, mouth open… </em>
</p><p>Georg took a final sip of his brandy, eyeing the glass with vigilant precision.</p><p>The pads of his fingers dug into the crystal as he pressed the back of his hand to his mouth.</p><p>
  <em>So this is how it was to be...</em>
</p><p>The ring of the tumbler as it was returned to the piano broke Georg’s reverie.</p><p>He turned, fixed and orderly; the picture of a calm Naval gentleman. </p><p>Pace steady and purposeful, he left the room, banishing the evening to the corners of his mind. His mask was fixed, eyes discerning and disguised as they had always been.</p><p>Moving up the stairs, he focused on the sound of his own steps, masterfully diverting his attention from the bedroom door of his late night provocateur, by now clad in her modest shift, no doubt praying on her knees to God. </p><p>As he entered his room, the figure of grace and respectability, there was nothing but the taut buzz of his body to testify against him. </p><p>After readying himself for bed, Georg, with great fortitude and discipline, lay down to sleep. </p><p>Then, when all was safe and quiet, he finally succumbed to his imagination, and there the beast poured out.  </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Make me feel it</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warnings: Punishment, whipping, light S&amp;M, light dom/sub. Image credit: cinemagal</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p>Georg was not done with her.</p><p>Arm outstretched, Maria’s palm trembled, open and exposed before him.</p><p>As they stared each other down, breath mutually ragged and deep, his cool expression betrayed the heat surging inside him.</p><p>His riding crop hung by his side, fingers gripped tightly around the handle while he rotated it his hand, steady, impassioned, eager.</p><p>In the quiet, he watched her.</p><p>For a moment, Maria squeezed her eyes shut, adrenaline and pain radiating up her arm. Pulse thrashing wildly, her bodice creaked with the force of her breathing as she struggled to control the rise and fall of her chest. </p><p>Maria lifted her chin in expectation. Instinctively, she knew Georg was testing her.</p><p>Although the leather thwack of his heated stroke still rang in the air, she recognised his silence - the toying glimmer in his look. </p><p>
  <em> They were only getting started… </em>
</p><p>“Well, Captain...?” She asked after a moment, the picture of casual defiance. </p><p>The corner of Georg’s mouth twitched. </p><p>“I would have hoped, Fräulein,” he began wryly, moving to hover at her side, “I’d made myself sufficiently clear...”</p><p>Georg looked down at her. With a mere gaze the man could charge the air.</p><p>Midnight closed in around them and the study door was locked.</p><p>She wouldn’t meet his eye.</p><p>“That’s not for me to decide, Captain...”</p><p>Georg worked hard to keep his nerve steady, fear and desire wracking him both. </p><p>“Oh...” he acknowledged quietly as he studied her face. Rare to miss anything, his eyes longed to discern - and enjoy. “You believe you deserve <em>more</em>.” </p><p>In the intimate timbre of his voice, Maria noted hints of that familiar teasing tone.</p><p>All logic - all sense - had left her. She was dizzied and flushed.</p><p>The sensations were new and unnerving, and with such little experience to guide her, she knew not how to process them.</p><p>“I’ll leave it to you, what I deserve,” Maria blushed. The desire to yield to his sultry, magnetic essence felt overwhelming; the feel of him, intoxicating. </p><p>Georg hummed to himself in mock consideration, tilting his head to take her in.</p><p>He ignored the immense sense of danger, the warnings that accosted every nerve of his sensory system.</p><p>Running headfirst into God knew what, Georg bowed to the almighty reign of their heady little game. It was a madness to be sure, reckless beyond measure, but he’d thought of little else this week.</p><p>
  <em>If she was willing… could she truly be willing...? </em>
</p><p>Although thirteen years his junior, and lacking the rich experience those years could provide, Maria had slowly begun to understand her role in their silent duet. To the young novice, the erotism was felt but not yet understood. </p><p>Late at night, as she considered his unwavering gaze, or the profound power of his presence, Maria’s rationale grew muddled. In her naivety she imagined it was <em>frustration</em> she read in Georg’s face. And the ache in her sex, the manner in which her senses bristled when he was near - their meaning lay obscured, patiently waiting to be explored. </p><p>Though yet to dawn, Maria’s sensual awakening would soon come, adeptly guided by the man before her. And the unassuming Georg, standing there blindly in all his handsome livery? He was equally insensible of the momentous shift his governess would soon instil - of the lessons they would teach one another as they fell their way through the dark.</p><p>A sudden wave of adrenaline gave Maria strength. Half coyness, half mocking, she chanced boldly.</p><p>Attentive and calm, Georg watched as she pointedly sighed, lowered her hand and glanced away.</p><p>“I would understand, sir, if you don’t have it in you to-”</p><p>
  <em> “Don’t have it in me?” </em>
</p><p>Georg’s face hardened but his eyes blazed with feeling.</p><p>
  <em>Oh, she seemed very pleased with herself indeed. </em>
</p><p>Now he knew. Maria understood perfectly well - or enough at least,<em> for now</em>... </p><p>“Hold out your hand,” he ordered, authority reaching around him like wings.</p><p>His torrid passion - the buried, biting hunger - was finally unleashed, burgeoning, rough and divine. As it bayed in his belly, it swelled his chest and lifted his chin. </p><p>Maria inhaled to ready herself and did as the Captain directed. Her eyes looked ahead, fixed on the dark line of his exquisite desk. </p><p>Reading her face one last time, Georg steadied himself, eyeing the pale surface of her dainty, innocent hand.</p><p>As his focus narrowed, his desire surged. There was no going back now. That he knew.</p><p>Georg’s breath stilled, eyes fixed on its target, sensual, beastly and still...</p><p>The first contact was the worst.</p><p>So much fiercer than his prior ministrations, the sharp slap of the leather against her skin made Maria gasp.</p><p>Her shoulders shuddered as a ferocious sting rippled through her shoulders and down her back.</p><p>Her eyes watered, proud stature faltering with the shock.</p><p>She bit back a moan, but before she could recover, Georg bestowed a second blow. </p><p>Maria bit down on her teeth as without mercy, the Captain unleashed another and another and another, each lick harder and more brutal than the last. </p><p>Georg grunted breathily from his exertions, each sting of the riding crop propelled from somewhere deep inside his secret heart. His shoulder rounded over and over as he bestowed the dark domination they had both craved. </p><p>It was not the pain, but <em>the power</em>. To feel her give herself to him, to be trusted and willingly received… <em> the submission.  </em></p><p>As he willingly bestowed the punishment she’d requested, waves of pleasure wracked Georg’s body. In his peripheral vision, he observed her carefully, reading every twitch of her face, the sensual parting of her lips, the way her eyes closed… There was care in his cruelty. </p><p>The sound of his effort, her sighs and the stings - they all mingled with their throaty breathing. A sheen of perspiration glimmered on her forehead.</p><p>Beneath the whip he felt her threshold fast approaching. </p><p>Maria had wanted this - to submit to him fully. She gave herself to the pain, yielding to Georg’s control, yet she doubted how much more she could withstand. The agony was sharp, but something else mewled beneath it. <em>Peace? Pleasure?</em> She could not yet grasp what. </p><p>Maria’s eyes opened hazily, tears spilling from her lashes.</p><p>In the melee of sensations, she became caught in the intoxicating expression on Georg’s face. Graceful and virile, he was a masterpiece of feeling: fierce, stern, impassioned, sensual, strong...</p><p>Arousal spiralled in her belly, coiling about her thighs and her heart. </p><p>But at the seventh stroke, she felt a cry begin to bubble in her chest - her limit, she felt. </p><p>And as if he read her mind, she thought, Georg climaxed his punishment with an eighth and final blow.</p><p>Finally, it was done.</p><p>Quiet filled the room.</p><p>Together they were panting heavily, their chests and shoulders heaving. Georg let his head fall back a little, watching intently as Maria sighed out a quiet whimper- a heady cocktail of her relief, shock, pain and rapture.</p><p>With open, ferocious abandon they stared at each other, unable to break their gaze. The intimacy of it was almost unbearable. The boldness and the vulnerability… the carnal give and take. In all his years, Georg had never felt anything so erotic.</p><p>
  <em>What was wrong with him? </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Animal...</em>
</p><p>Maria lowered her arm, fingers curling around her scarlet palm. Something delicious coiled in her belly. She was trembling. </p><p>Georg tossed the crop onto his desk, watching her still as it landed amongst the papers. His breath had started to slow.</p><p>Slowly he approached Maria, bodies almost flush, and lowered his mouth to her ear.</p><p>“<em>I trust I have now made myself clear, Fräulein..</em>.” </p><p>Maria’s eyes slipped closed as his honeyed voice lingered. The extreme waves of feeling in her body were overwhelming. Exhausted, a quiet moan escaped her throat.  </p><p>Georg pulled away to take her in. The scent of her, he knew, would stay with him long until the night. His eyes flickered about her face, resting for a moment at her mouth. He felt Maria watching him carefully, her breath still heavy and quick. The softness of her eyes frightened him. His jaw tensed. </p><p>“Don’t ever doubt me, Maria...” he warned slowly. Her name felt strange on his tongue.</p><p>Maria’s eyes glittered meaningfully and although silent Georg heard her meaning clearly, searing itself into his mind. </p><p>
  <em> Nor you I, sir.</em>
</p><p>He nodded imperceptibly, suddenly overcome by a flood of immeasurable tenderness.</p><p>In a haze of feeling, he reached for her wrist and lifted her bruised hand to his mouth.</p><p>Maria felt transfixed in his sky blue gaze, trembling at the authority and care hidden within. He kissed her palm, idly stroking her knuckles with his thumb. </p><p>Georg felt another wave of desire, longing to tease his tongue along the deep red welts, to bite carefully at her wrist… </p><p>But the stark reality of his precarious position snapped his reverie. He suddenly saw himself, up alongside his children’s governess, mouth teasingly pressed against her shivering palm, his heart open and unguarded.</p><p><em> W</em><em>hat was he doing? </em>It was unconscionable. <em> Unacceptable</em>. </p><p>Maria felt Georg calcify, his grip tightening around her wrist before he quickly let it go and walked away. </p><p>Suddenly she felt cold and alone, exposed and uncertain of herself.</p><p>An evening chill ran along her spine, still slick from her punishment.</p><p>Georg ran his hand through his hair, refusing to accept what he felt happening inside him.</p><p>He had assured himself he’d be careful. To play the game and not be undone.</p><p>But he had lost himself, given in to the mewling softness that lay in this perilous foreplay.</p><p>Georg resolved to never let it happen again.</p><p>Maria cradled her hand. It burned wildly from his touch.</p><p>“That will be all Fräulein.” He had his back to her; his voice was business-like, remote.  </p><p>Georg steadied himself against the cabinet and poured himself a glass of wine. He sipped it quickly, hoping to hide in its scarlet depths.</p><p>
  <em>Surely he had gone too far. </em>
  <em>What beast had he revealed, never to be unseen?</em>
</p><p>He imagined her fleeing in the night to the safety of the abbey. Shame and fear clawed at his chest. </p><p>“Yes, sir,” Maria meekly responded. </p><p>She felt numbed by the merciless waves of electricity that were coursing through her. Just as her master, they used her ceaselessly for their pleasure, far more powerful than she. </p><p>Maria struggled to remember how to walk. The apex of her things felt warm and slick: the feeling was potent and new. She felt drunk with it.</p><p>But the Captain, it appeared, was unaffected. Maria pressed the back of her hand to her forehead. She felt disoriented. Her hand throbbed. </p><p>Georg listened to her move across the room as he held onto the frame of the chiffonier.</p><p>The key clicked in the latch, unlocked at last. </p><p>Simultaneously Georg and Maria wondered how she would hide the bruising from the children.</p><p>And from Elsa, Georg guiltily added. </p><p>“Fräulein Maria-” he called suddenly, his voice gentle in the heavy quiet. He turned his head slightly, but looked only at the floor. “Are you sure… this is what you want?” </p><p>Their eyes met. </p><p>Georg’s face was awash with half-guarded vulnerability. Maria could hardly breath.</p><p>The air felt soft, as if made just for them.</p><p>As the seconds ticked by, Georg’s confidence faltered. His heart began to harden. </p><p>But then, Maria silently raised her hand to a bureau that sat next to the door. </p><p>Georg watched as without breaking his gaze, she placed a finger behind a crystal ornament and slowly pushed it off the surface. </p><p>His eyes followed to the floor where it cracked unceremoniously with a muted thud.</p><p>Maria felt his glare flick up body, sharp as a switch blade.</p><p>As their eyes met, her breath caught in her chest. His aura had thickened, his familiar, rich stoicism returning. Maria felt bare before him.</p><p>Finally remembering herself, she nodded a goodbye, quickly withdrawing from the study and disappearing into the night.</p><p>For a few moments, Georg didn’t move. His entire being felt flooded with a thousand screaming thoughts and cacophony of exhausting sensations.</p><p>Hands steady, he slowly reached for his wine.</p><p>Then, alone and unobserved, Georg smiled softly into the rim of his glass. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Show them nothing</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Image credit: fuckyeahsoundofmusic</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p>In being uncharacteristically late for breakfast, the Captain had hoped to glide over the whole heady affair. </p><p>He busied himself with papers; he was slow to dress - anything to avoid Maria and the wicked catastrophe that glinted above them. As he laid in bed he’d felt it wink its all-seeing eye at him, blade sharply hovering with every careful breath.</p><p>A quick glance at his watch; the coast would surely now be clear. But as Georg descended the staircase, the notes of their chatter drifted to meet him.They were still in the dining parlour and, ironically late themselves, politely waiting for his arrival, shoelaces bowed, faces rosy and hopeful. </p><p>Georg knew his house well; his clipped gait, signal of his impending approach, would be heard long before they ever caught sight of him.</p><p>So, in anticipation of her presence - and desirous of giving away nothing - the Captain busied himself with the buttons on his jacket sleeve, shoulders back as he inspected the cuffs with tidy precision. </p><p>Entering with his unique brand of curt indifference, the Captain met a chorus of greetings from his children, all nodding brightly from their allocated seats. </p><p>“Good morning, Georg,” Elsa smiled as he sat, touching his arm in affection and relief.</p><p>The Captain lay a napkin over his lap and squeezed her hand in reply.</p><p>Dashing a lick of cream into his coffee, he greeted his children and took a sip. Taking his lead, the family burst into action, reaching gayly for their breads and jams; their meats and their teas. Soft, discreet chatter filled the room, the content siblings sharing amongst themselves. </p><p>Elsa watched Georg over her teacup, delicate fingers holding it to her lips as she took a long, mindful sip. His gaze darted around the small typecast of his broadsheet, carefully laid out for him by Frau Schmidt. </p><p>Lowering her cup to its saucer, Elsa began to hush sweetly about the day ahead.</p><p>Georg sat a picture of employment. Intermittently he looked up at her with his usual detached charm, her commentary sweetened by his pleasing agreement. </p><p>But his mind was anchored across the table.</p><p>There she sat, opposite and agile, reaching for his youngest child while she quietly fielded his children’s eager inquiries.</p><p>Her pink-orange blouse bloomed against the white of the pressed linen, a halo of gold hair ringing out against the drapes.</p><p>“Father,” chimed his youngest in her husky little voice.</p><p>“<em>Yes, Gretl</em>...” He didn’t look up.</p><p>“Fräulein Maria has hurt her hand.” </p><p>“Don’t disturb your father, Gretl,” Maria gently censured, hiding her awkward fear well.</p><p>“Is that so?” Georg distractedly replied as he turned the page, eyes grazing the columns of commentary.</p><p>“It’s nothing, Captain.”</p><p>“It’s bandaged!” impressed Marta.</p><p>“Whatever did you do, you funny girl?” smiled the Baroness, elegant fingers encircling her teacup as she took another sip. </p><p>“She trapped it in a door,” Brigitta answered in Maria’s stead.</p><p>“You should be more careful, Fräulein,” Georg added. He still had not looked at her.</p><p>“Father!” exclaimed Fredreich, clearly expecting a greater display of gentlemanly concern. Georg felt a stab of disappointment in himself. </p><p>“Of course,” he smiled at his son deferentially, folding down his paper. “I trust you are not in too much pain, Fräulein?”</p><p>The tone was polite - performative. </p><p>“Nothing I can’t handle, Captain,” she answered, spreading jam on her toast. She still had not looked at him.</p><p>“Can we practice our singing today?” asked Brigitta.</p><p>“Oh, yes please,” several of her siblings echoed. </p><p>“You know your father’s wishes, children. Only once you’ve had your lessons.” </p><p>“I like my lessons,” puffed Kurt, proud and beaming.</p><p>“Yes, me too,” agreed Freidrich.</p><p>As the conversation continued, Georg and Maria continued to avoid each other's gaze, all the while acute aware of every movement made by the other.</p><p>It was a game - unexpected - yet neither could disengage. Neither was willing.  </p><p>This new dynamic blazed across the table as a comet, ignored by both but utterly irrefutable.</p><p>“You look positively exhausted, darling,” Elsa teased, her liquid movements and musical voice propelling them into immediate intimacy.  </p><p>“Oh, you’ve only just noticed?” Georg countered convivially. “It was but a matter of time...” </p><p>“Georg,” she playfully swatted, delighting in his private attention.</p><p>“Darling, I am the picture of health,” Georg turned a page of his paper. “A shining embodiment of vitality itself.”</p><p>“Indeed you are.”</p><p>Elsa topped up his coffee.</p><p>“Another late night?” she inquired effortlessly, tilting her head in expectation of his confidence.</p><p>“Hmm?” Georg asked, glancing up from his paper, “Oh, yes. No - something came up.”</p><p>Georg unknowingly glanced across the table to Maria, but her focus seemed acutely fixed on Marta, untucking a napkin from her blouse.</p><p>“Come now, children,” Maria began. </p><p>She placed the napkin on the table and rose from her chair.</p><p>Her attention was pointedly everywhere but on Georg. Her hand seemed to tingle in his presence: a kiss burned into her skin.</p><p>“Good morning, father; good morning, Baroness” they elegantly bid as they filed out the room, a wash of lilacs, browns, blues and whites. </p><p>Maria was almost free.</p><p>As she moved towards the door, Georg turned his head, eyes on the floor.</p><p>“Fräulein,” he stopped, that musical, authoritative voice filling her up. “I trust you’ll be more careful in the future.”</p><p>“I can but do my best, Captain,” Maria replied. </p><p>“See that you do.”</p><p>“Yes, sir.”</p><p>And that was it. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Make me want it</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Chapter warnings: smuttt, spanking, very light breath play, bondage and explicit language. Enjoy. Image credit: theculturebinge</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p>Four days had lingered on since the episode in the study.</p><p>Four sweet, agonising and identical days, in which Georg and Maria spent all resolve maintaining normality.</p><p>The happenings of that night lay buried, groaning secretly under every exchange; every dinner; every word... </p><p>With each hot flare of her palm, Maria’s heart raced.</p><p>Recalling his angry, sensual touch, she struggled to concentrate. </p><p>Confused and murky, her innocence now felt compromised.</p><p>Their exchange had been all consuming - erotic, unchaste and unwise - but in the rapid, sublime beating of her heart, it remained hard to see the sin. </p><p>Somehow, underneath everything, Maria trusted him.</p><p>She sighed, content.</p><p>The breeze was warm this evening and with the children exhausted from their excursions, she had grasped at the opportunity to slip out amongst the terrace roses and read. </p><p>Although she could hear the distant murmur of Georg, Max and the Baroness socialising on the opposite side of the villa, their conversations sat muted and melodic amongst the sounds of summer.</p><p>As her fingers leafed through a history of the great Austrian composers, Maria felt a swell of gratitude. In the blue dusk of night the villa glittered, pools of light reflecting off the expanse of the lake. The air was balmy and it soothed her skin, playfully ruffling her dress as it teased the pages of her book.</p><p>
  <em> His book… </em>
</p><p>Maria’s thoughts slipped to the Captain.</p><p>Since that night, their conversations had been trimmed to mere pleasantries and pretence. Speaking briefly, and almost only of the children, Maria and Georg always had an audience. </p><p>To the unknowing eye they appeared cordial, full of polite, distant smiles and functional nods. But hidden within their avoidant gaze lived a lattice of complex, layered exchanges.</p><p>In their separation they were unknowingly united, sharing a covert and constant awareness of the other. </p><p>Ubiquitous and provocative, Maria felt Georg’s presence keenly. His athletic gestures; the becoming tone of his voice; his arch sense of humour: all of it seemed etched into her awareness.</p><p>No matter her engagement, be she mid-conversation or across the grounds, the Captain rang as constant as a bell. It lived as a mesmerising, infuriating sensation, a phenomenon that both terrified and bewitched. </p><p>Lacking the courage to meet his gaze, from time to time Maria imagined the Captain’s eyes upon her. Perhaps it was mere hope, but there were occasions where it seemed she could feel his attention, skin prickling as he caressed and considered her from afar.</p><p>She revelled in the anticipation of those looks, sometimes fleeting, others sustained.</p><p>And although she suffered shame for it, Maria caught herself yearning for his eye more than once. </p><p>Indeed, that fervoured night had kindled something within her.</p><p>As if it had blossomed as she slept, Maria had awoken suddenly aware of her body.</p><p>When her mind lingered on far off thoughts, she idly ran her fingers along her neck.</p><p>She had grown acutely aware of the line of her waist and the feminine curve of her breasts.</p><p>And in the morning mirror, she touched at her face, seeing as if anew the tint of her cheek and the blush of her mouth.</p><p>Beauty increasingly bloomed within her, and in its quiet emergence Maria bashfully wondered whether she was handsome. </p><p>But if the Captain did notice her, he was highly adept at hiding it. Indeed, his distance persisted as such that if it wasn’t for the dull, rich ache of her hand, Maria would have questioned if any of it had even happened at all...</p><p>The spell of her reverie broke at the far off chime of Elsa’s dulcet giggle. In this heady hour it seemed to soar through the trees as a dove, impossibly sophisticated and bright.</p><p>Maria turned her attention back to the book, head resting on her hand as she relaxed into the tranquil beauty of her surroundings.</p><hr/><p>Across the house, as Elsa and Max cajoled and imbibed, Georg sat still as stone.</p><p>His placid smile endured only as a mask, hiding him in plain sight while he privately ruminated amongst his guests.</p><p>With a chance remark or witty retort he was able to skim the surface of their conversation, always appearing to move, but never needing to settle. </p><p>No.</p><p>Georg’s attention lived elsewhere. </p><p>With slow, meditative precision, he rolled the tip of his index finger against his thumb in soft, steady circles. To those who knew how to look, it betrayed deep thought, and as his eyes narrowed, he bit down on the ice that had been flirting with his tongue. </p><p>Finishing his drink, Georg bade them good night, noncommittally citing some plausible reason to depart.</p><p>Languishing with merriment into her chaise, Elsa gracefully raised her cheek for a kiss. Georg bestowed it, echoing her dazzling smile with polished expertise. </p><p>His early retirement aroused little suspicion, and although his mind was out the door long before his body, the Captain moved calmly, exuding an intelligent mix of ease and purpose.</p><p>Finally, he discarded his glass upon the sideboard and left them to it. </p><hr/><p>Instinctively, Georg knew where she’d be.</p><p>For four arduous days he had felt her being as if bound to it by thread.</p><p>Her every movement, each laugh and word - they echoed inside him, tugging at his attention as fingers on a bow.</p><p>He'd studied her carefully, keen to discern any clue to her fear or disgust, but found none. Indeed, her coy, aloof air indicated the opposite. It brought them closer: this shared, sultry secret.</p><p>But as Maria continued to shimmer in his peripheral vision, Georg’s frustration grew. Be it in his captaincy or his widowerhood, he was well experienced in banishing affection.</p><p>Yet pretend as he might, as the summer drew on he felt Maria’s presence more acutely. The music of her being moved through him, soft, inescapable and deeply unsettling. An opening of something long sealed...</p><p>Georg’s hand clenched as he walked, cool and full of purpose. </p><p><em> Enough of this</em>.</p><p>It had been long enough.</p><hr/><p>Quick and quiet, the day was dimming, yielding itself fully to pure, unsullied night. </p><p>The essay on Strauss was dry but welcome, with Maria glad to feel her mind occupied elsewhere.</p><p>She read of waltzes and polkas, smiling wistly at the tales of operettas and ballets - things she was yet to see. </p><p>Caught in her paragraphs and the hum of the crickets, Maria did not notice Georg approaching.</p><p>Not, at least, until a small clink of glass touched the marble surface. </p><p>For a second she froze, blurred gaze locked on the inky pages.</p><p>Her heart leapt. </p><p>There, small enough to fit in his pocket, sat half a crystal swan.</p><p>As the jagged break in its back shone, illumined and conspicuous, Maria could scarcely breathe. </p><p>The beautiful, stern spectre of the Captain loomed above her, face hard, eyes indecipherable. </p><p>Maria held his glare for mere moments, the cobalt gleam of his eyes piercing sharply. </p><p>Time itself suspended, bowing mutely in anticipation as it eyed the space between them. </p><p>In a single look, they found their understanding - a silent call and response. Like the gloved hand reaching for its partner, their replies were straightforward and magnetic: <em> wherever you lead me, </em>it said,<em> I will follow. </em></p><p>Georg silently began to back away. </p><p>In the moonlight, his lissome figure radiated certainty, and as he turned towards the veranda doors, Maria could not but help admire the handsome line of his olive-grey suit.  </p><p>She left her book beside the fractured ornament and rose from her seat.</p><p>Her still-battered palm quivered against her stomach as she smoothed her blouse, fiddling unconsciously with the light yellow buttons.  </p><p>The Captain stood with his back to the door, waiting for Maria to pass.</p><p>He endured, as always, as a silent symphony. Complex and layered, he exuded a language all of his own, always understanding, always understood. </p><p>He glowered as she approached, chin dipped slightly while his authoritative eyes followed her every step. Maria felt the heat of his attention but looked at the ground, unable, it felt, to meet his glare. </p><p>As she slipped by, she brought the perfume of the roses with her, and when the cotton ruffle of her skirts swished against the door, Georg half thought to graze his fingers against them. </p><p>For the Captain, to be so close after days of cold constraint was an agony; and although fleeting, the intimacy of her proximity lay thick in the air. Once she’d passed, he briefly lent his head against the panes. For the smallest moment, his eyes slipped closed, hunger swelling in the heat of the night.</p><p>His pulse raced. He knew the feeling well.</p><p>Taking command of his senses, Georg steeled himself and followed Maria into the hall.</p><p>Their footsteps echoed coldly, and while the dwindling dregs of Elsa and Max’s conversation seeped through the walls, Georg’s eyes fixed hawkishly on the slender frame ahead of him.</p><p>With short, gruff movements, he began to loosen his tie, pulling purposefully at the knot as he followed Maria into the study.</p><p>His fingers were quick and strong, and when he finally crossed the doorway, Georg forcefully whipped it from his collar in one fluid motion, focus still unbroken on the back of his prey.</p><p>He closed the door behind him, directing her to lock it and bring him the key. </p><p>Maria obeyed. </p><p>With the click of the latch, no further sound could be heard from outside the room.</p><p>They were finally alone. </p><p>Unsteady as doe, Maria padded towards him, seeing only his stern, sensual face, hard as marble but full of beauty.</p><p>Inside, the light was faint and the curtains were drawn.</p><p>Maria felt her nervous system calm in the glow.</p><p>But she also felt fear.</p><p>Her palm was barely soothed and she doubted whether it could take another blow.</p><p><em>What did he plan to do with her? </em> <em>What contrition lay ahead?</em></p><p>The Captain had earned her submission - she yielded it keenly - but in her naivety she quivered, the possibilities of their union still unknown.</p><p>Maria handed Georg the key. </p><p>He brusquely pocketed it, flicking the lapel back into place as he had that day by the lake, and then closed the expanse between them.</p><p>“Captain, I-”</p><p>Ignoring her words, Georg roughly turned her so her back was towards him. </p><p>Tie in hand, he began to bind her wrists with forceful, unforgiving motions. The hard, tight yanks came easy to a man long acquainted with unbreakable knots.</p><p>A small cry escaped Maria’s throat. Her breathing accelerated.</p><p>The feel of his forceful hands working at her back; the scent of his cologne: she trembled, dizzy and frightened - intoxicated and desperate.</p><p>
  <em> What were these feelings? So fierce in her body? </em>
</p><p>The material dug into her wrists, pain already creeping up her arms and pulling at her shoulders. The gratification was sudden - <em> blunt </em> - and as she began to lose herself in it, Maria let her head loll back a little, eyes hooded in unfamiliar bliss. </p><p>Once satisfied with the bind, the Captain roughly tugged at his tie, gauging the strength of his handiwork.</p><p>He enjoyed toying with his submissive, constantly assessing how much of his strength he could use against her inexperienced, agile body. </p><p>Gazing over her shoulder, he watched Maria’s face release in capitulation.</p><p>As she sighed into his dominion, Georg felt a fathomless tide of arousal flood his being.</p><p>It spilled over his thighs and pooled in his pelvis.</p><p>It reached up his chest and spread to his hands.</p><p>He yearned to run his fingers along her lips, now fallen open in the beginning of her ecstasy.</p><p>Unwilling to let her savour her satisfaction, Georg seized a handful of Maria’s blouse and roughly manoeuvred her to the desk. </p><p>With deft assertion, he pushed her onto it, her chest laying flush against its cool, polished surface.</p><p>She was panting urgently, breasts heaving against the wood.</p><p>The Captain’s bondage had begun to bite sadistically at her skin and realising her helplessness, Maria swallowed a whimper of anticipation, the tight knot at her wrists echoed darkly between her thighs.</p><p>She felt ashamed to find enjoyment in the Captain’s castigation. She blushed with humiliation.</p><p>For them both, Maria’s discomfort only deepened their delectation.</p><p>They’d slipped into their roles with ease, each anxious but trusting of the other, together joined in lust and seduced by possibility. Between them thrived a flawless marriage of dominance and submission - one that would endure far beyond their imagination. </p><p>Georg removed his jacket. He took his time, revelling in the delicious inward struggle that spasmed through Maria’s limbs.</p><p>He felt wicked and strong- masculine. Laying like that she looked the trembling embodiment of his most wicked fantasies.</p><p>
  <em>How would he ever forgot such a sight?</em>
</p><p>“Now, Fräulein,” he began, carefully unbuttoning his cuffs. “I had hoped I’d made myself clear, but judging by your behaviour, it seems I was mistaken...” </p><p>Her face was turned away from him, Maria found the Captain’s reflection in the glass of a wall clock. Covertly she watched him, her rapidly blinking eyes transfixed on his image, clear and bright, illuminated before her as a star in the dark. </p><p>This secret perspective restored some sense of power - but it frightened her too.</p><p>Maria yearned to watch his face as he had his way with her - to understand what he felt as he punished her body - but she also feared the wolfish appetite that flowed through him.</p><p>She could not look away. </p><p>“It was foolish of me to assume you’d had enough,” the Captain continued, perching beside her as he clasped his hands in his lap. “I see now we were only getting started...”</p><p>Maria mumbled a breathy moan, words failing as her fingers flexed in their bind. </p><p>“That little trifle you so carelessly broke the other evening- that was rather dear to me,” his voice seemed agonisingly casual, giving away nothing of his intentions.</p><p>Maria’s sex ached uncontrolledly at the smooth, musical tone. </p><p>“You see, it was a graduation gift from my father, and utterly one of a kind. When he gave it to me, Fräulein, he told me to take good care of it. And I did. All my adult life....” Maria watched in the glass as he looked down at her. “That is, until <em>you</em> entered my home...” </p><p>Maria swallowed hard. Her breathing was ragged.</p><p>Georg pushed himself off the desk, standing tall and virile beside her.</p><p>
  <em>He was so attractive...</em>
</p><p>“Imagine my frustration, seeing such a precious gift so callously broken by the governess of my children. To watch her <em> flout </em> her disobedience right in front of me.”</p><p>“Forgive me, sir,” she appealed, desperate for his clemency, however he wanted to give it. </p><p>Georg felt her plea throb in his thick, unyielding cock. The desire was extreme.</p><p>“Night after night...” he continued, “I’ve sat here wondering how <em> on earth </em> I could ever punish you for such an injurious deed.”</p><p>Maria’s eyes were wide; delirious. </p><p>“And then it occurred to me.”</p><p>The Captain placed his palms on her thighs. Maria gasped violently, quaking beneath his touch. </p><p>“Pain is easy...” Georg tilted his head as he began to push the cotton folds of her dress up her long, lean legs. “But I need penitence...” he endured, watching closely as he exposed more and more of the peach expanse of her naked skin. His fingers dug into the pleats, palms preying higher. “To hear how <em> truly sorry </em> you are...” </p><p>Maria’s skirt pooled over her hands, already rosy from the work of his adroit fingers.</p><p>She moaned involuntarily, closing her eyes in wanton anticipation.</p><p>“I want to hear you <em> beg </em> for my forgiveness.”</p><p>With a soft, agonising caress, Georg ran a palm across the pearlish curve of Maria’s buttocks.</p><p>Maria's breath hitched; nothing but the translucent slip of her undergarments lay between them. Her fingers tightened into helpless fists and she writhed under the perfect tyranny of his touch.</p><p>While he watched his chaste charge tremble beneath his hands, blood surged through Georg’s body.The fleshy contour where her thighs met her backside was barely covered by her cream-coloured lingerie. The short, linen panties were simple and modest - delicately tied with a thin strip of ribbon.</p><p><em>A gift</em>, he mused, <em>just for him</em>. </p><p>Fervid longing raged within him. But Georg was strong - and his control was absolute. </p><p>“Pain is easy,” he emphasised, voice husky with desire. “<em>But pleasure</em>…” Georg pulled slowly at the silken bow, watching as Maria’s underwear fell open at his touch, “<span class="u"><em>that</em></span> is something else entirely...”</p><p>Maria hummed in desperation. Georg's profile gleamed in the glass. She couldn’t tear her eyes from his mouth.  </p><p>“<em>Captain</em>…” she gasped pointlessly. </p><p>Above her he towered, busy enjoying running his hands along her pert little ass.</p><p>As she whimpered under his control, he used the pads of his fingers to push apart the thin veils of her linen slip. They parted with ease, revealing her tight, naked swell. </p><p>Maria gasped into the desk, teeth biting down.</p><p>
  <em>So vulnerable and exposed.</em>
</p><p>Georg ached to lower his mouth to her skin; to torment her with his tongue; to bestow bites, hard and deliberate. </p><p>There was nothing to protect her now.</p><p>Now he knew.</p><p>She was irrevocably, undeniably his.</p><p>“Tell me,” Georg’s voice was easy, overflowing with delicious irony. “Have you ever felt pleasure, Fräulein?” </p><p>Maria hardly knew. At this moment, she hardly knew anything. As she lay there, half-naked and bound on her master’s bureau, the novice recognised her previously held notions of the word fell woefully short.</p><p>If <em>this</em> was pleasure - the liquid feel of his voice; this hot, thick ache between her legs - then Maria understood she knew nothing of the sensation at all. With the full power of her fevered imagination, could she ever have envisioned it would be like this?</p><p>“I don’t know, Sir...” she confided. She felt shy.</p><p>“No,” replied the Captain wickedly. He inhaled as he slipped his palms up to her waist, “I suppose you don’t.” He gripped it tight, admiring the delicate way it cinched in his hands.</p><p>Georg yearned to grind his pelvis into her, to bury his cock as he ravaged her over and over, until she begged him to stop. </p><p>“But I think you want to. Don’t you?” </p><p>Georg lazily grazed her inner thigh with his fingertips. </p><p>“To understand what it means to be brought to ecstasy...” </p><p>He ran his other hand up her spine and buried his fingers in hair. His voice seemed to vibrate through her body.</p><p>“Only to be denied release…” </p><p>Georg teased his fingertips higher up her thigh. </p><p>“Again... and again... <em>and again</em>...” </p><p>Finally, he brushed her aching centre, humming deeply as he felt the eager wetness that permeated through her pathetic, translucent panties.</p><p>“To be utterly powerless to stop it...” </p><p>Maria’s muffled moan was animal.</p><p>“As you cry you out for my mercy...” </p><p>He hushed her huskily, pulling lightly at her hair as he demanded obedience. </p><p>Somewhere in it all, he prayed to Christ to save him. <em>What was this feeling? </em>It gripped at his chest, peeling him apart.</p><p>As the Captain's fingers began to teased her pussy, slow and unforgiving, Maria moaned in despair.</p><p>With untold urgency, she pushed up her hips towards him, intoxicated, terrified, and desperate for more of what he gave her.</p><p>Georg hissed gladly as he watched her buck for him - so needy and innocent.</p><p>
  <em>Good girl...</em>
</p><p>In reward, he pulled harder at her hair, beckoning his fingertips along her eager slit with more decided strokes.</p><p>The linen of her panties was slick.</p><p>It soaked through to his skin.</p><p>His cock throbbed.</p><p><em> To know she wanted him… </em> </p><p>Georg recognised he was the first to touch her; he meant to make it memorable.</p><p>As his weight and skill bore down on her, Maria’s heart reached for him wildly. It burst through her body, now glowing from his expert touch.</p><p>“You like to be punished, don’t you...” Georg baited, “to be treated like the disobedient, young wildling you are...”</p><p>Maria whined provocatively, the high breathy pitch of her voice threatening to push him over the edge.</p><p>“You just <em>can’t seem to help yourself</em>...” </p><p>Holding her in place, he started to stroke her wet, pulsating folds more firmly, the touch always halting just before he reached swollen pearl of her clit.</p><p>Despite the thin veil of her panties, Maria felt every gesture, every pad of his fingers as they worked against her. The Captain's deep, sensual voice seemed to lick at her between her thighs: a sonic tongue lapping cruelly.</p><p>“Just look at what I have to do to make you behave...”</p><p>Maria moaned forcibly as Georg finally caressed her quivering clit, hitherto untouched.</p><p>The sound of her unguarded pleasure shot through him. He felt half crazed by desire, half tender with care.</p><p>“Tell me you want this...” he demanded, withdrawing his fingertips from her aching pussy.</p><p>His tactics were unrelenting, masterful- wicked - but he needed to hear it. Toying cruelly, Georg began to run his hand along the tight curves of Maria's ass, a trail of her slick glinting on her skin.</p><p>“Tell me you want to be punished and pleasured over and over.”</p><p>In her helpless stupor, Maria could not bring herself to obey. But to deny it was the most sinful deceit of her existence.</p><p>Georg felt her struggle keenly; he knew he’d have to force it from her - coax the truth from her body as he had her submission. </p><p>“Fräulein…” he warned in that stern tone she knew so well. He wouldn’t be kept waiting.</p><p>The Captain released his rough grasp on her hair, wrapping instead around the arch of her throat.</p><p>Her skin blazed, pulse spasming wildly.</p><p>With measured force, Georg squeezed tight.</p><p>“When I ask you a question, Fräulein, I expect you to answer,” he bit, feeling her groan vibrate through his hand.</p><p>“<em>Tell me- </em>” he demanded.</p><p>“I do…” Maria whispered</p><p>“<em>Again, </em>” Georg squeezed harder. </p><p>“<em>I do.</em>”</p><p>“Beg me for it...”</p><p>“Please, sir...”</p><p>“Please, sir <em> what</em>?”</p><p>“Please-" Maria gasped, <em>"please</em>, punish me, sir,” the words spilled out like liquid, “<em>I beg you...” </em></p><p>As if struck by her spell, Georg released the fierce passion that bayed in his blood.</p><p>Unclasping her throat, he gruffly pulled her hips towards him and Maria buried her face in the desk as with unabashed force he ripped open her linen panties.</p><p>Her body shuddered violently, groaning as his naked fingers finally slipped against her sweet, naked cunt. She whispered his name into the dark, the sound falling unheard in the sigh of her breath. </p><p>It was here the full genius of Georg’s torment reached its ascendency. </p><p>With skilled touch he pleasured and punished both, disorienting his submissive as she lay in helpless surrender.</p><p>With one hand he rubbed gently her naked flesh before spanking down hard; he struck at her thighs; rapped at her ass, spanked her tight, wet folds: wherever his rabid pleasure so desired.</p><p>And with the other - soft and cruel and never ceasing - he stroked deliciously at her desperate, vestal pussy, now swollen and glistening with quivering, yielding desire. </p><p>As Georg inflicted and enjoyed, punished and pleasured - just as he’d promised - Maria clenched her teeth, loud moan swallowed down as ecstasy ravaged her body. </p><p>Knowing she no longer watched him in the glass of the clock (the Captain missed nothing), Georg could finally let his intoxication show. His eyes grew drowsy with bliss, brow knitting, jaw becoming slack. He could feel his pulse racing at the force of his own current. </p><p>As he punished and punished her, Georg drank every inch of Maria in - dominated body and soul.</p><p>
  <em> The tie darkly bound at her wrists.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Her naked limbs twitching just for him.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The way she tiptoed and arched her back, offering even him more her sweet, innocent womanhood.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>What he wouldn’t give to slip his fingers inside her. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>What he wouldn’t give to fuck her into oblivion…</em>
</p><p>Yet Georg had vowed never to enter her; to keep her free to know her God, and to honour the chastity she’d entered his home with.</p><p>It was a desperate, deliberate dissonance, her purity as much a boundary as it was lure, but he’d wedded himself to the fact.</p><p>Unless she asked for it, she’d leave this house unentered and unscathed.</p><p>Well… <em>perhaps only just. </em></p><p>But Georg also wanted Maria to know him; to feel a holy communion with a man such as he. And he wanted to be the one to teach her. The Captain had sworn to bring untold pleasures to them both, but not at the expense of her darling soul.  </p><p>Blissful, unmeasurable minutes of his unrelenting control had passed and Maria’s buttocks and thighs had started to grow pink from his lashings.</p><p>The sight was enlivening, but Georg tore his gaze away to watch Maria in the reflection of the glass, eyes closed, mouth open, face pressed hard into the desk. </p><p>He observed her with fascination, yanking at her hair as, sadistically sensual, he slipped his fingers over the swollen nib of her clit.</p><p>Maria cried out, the moan like music.</p><p>Georg relished the way her face flickered helplessly under the power of his touch. </p><p>
  <em>Fuck... yes.</em>
</p><p>As he watched her pleasure, Georg blasphemed under his breath, his own now spilling unseen over his face.</p><p>Maria felt her liquid arousal douse her thighs; she could hear it licking against his fingers, painting his skin. </p><p>Slapping hard across her backside, Georg continued to run his fingers down Maria’s slick, eager sex, the gentle ministrations so opposed to the unforgiving, savage strikes against her perfect, angelic ass.</p><p>Maria’s breathy gasps and groans filled the study while with skilled delight, Georg slowly edged her towards her virginal climax.</p><p>He always stopped as he felt it near the peak, roughly rapping her naked thighs in exchange.</p><p>He loved withholding what she craved, feeling her beg needily. </p><p>Maria was forcibly whimpering, blind to the release that awaited her nubile body - so close now, and so desperately desired. </p><p>Georg smiled. </p><p>He wanted her to remember him - to remember this - each and every time she moved through the house, every time she sat, with every glare he threw her way… </p><p>He wanted to instil this pleasure with her pain; to diffuse them in a heady mix -  a sensuous, sadistic echo of his power and affection. </p><p>And wanted her to come -<em>hard and agonising - </em> but on his terms only: to know her master, and what true obedience felt like. </p><p>Georg wanted to school her in the depths of pleasure and the possibilities of pain. He wanted her to know she was his and to wish, from the depths of her heart, that she had never entered his house.</p><p>As his rapid hunger raved, Georg was dangerously close to slipping his fingers inside her.</p><p>
  <em> How divine to bury himself… feel her convulse around him, so warm and tight and lustful. </em>
</p><p>“Tell me how sorry you are,” he rumbled, feeling himself verge towards abandon.</p><p>“<em>Nmmh- </em> I… <em> I</em>...”</p><p>“Tell me you regret being the wicked girl you are-”</p><p>“Yes,” Maria hissed.</p><p>Georg smacked her, hard.</p><p>“<em>Yess</em>.” </p><p>“Have you learned your lesson? Have you had enough?”</p><p>“God help me…” she begged, voice hoarse.</p><p>“<em>Have you? </em>” Georg gritted out, rapping harder and closer to her pussy. He wanted to bury his tongue in her soaked, blushing folds.</p><p>“Yes. <em>Yes</em>.”</p><p>“<em>Does it hurt</em>, Maria...?</p><p>“Mmmm,” she managed as his fingers ground into her clit. Her knees were starting to buckle.</p><p>“Does it feel <em> good</em>?”</p><p>Rapid moans peeled from her lips as her orgasm neared.</p><p>“Nmmh,” Maria cried breathily, “please - <em> please… </em> I’m sorry, sir...” </p><p>Georg led her closer and closer to the edge of oblivion, reigns held tight.</p><p>“Will you be <em> a good little governess </em>for me?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“Obey your master-”</p><p>She could only whine, fingers curling into fists.</p><p>“Do as I command-” </p><p>Her climax was so close...</p><p>“Yes - yes - I sw.... Mmn... I - swear. <em>Please forgive me</em>, master... Forgive me. I beg you.<em> Please.</em>”</p><p>But Georg did not allow her release. </p><p>He withdrew his hands from her body, cock agonisingly hard, breath wild and ragged.</p><p>For moments he was silent.</p><p>“Good…” he whispered, almost to himself.</p><p>There he left her, whimpering and exposed, a deliciously pitiful, shaking mess - thighs glistening and raw in the soft, intimate light. </p><p>This denial: this was his pleasure. </p><p>He stood for a minute, watching her sweet suffering splayed out all over his desk. It absorbed the sound of her - the scent of her innocent, soaked pussy. He knew he’d never look at it in the same way again. </p><p>When he’d had his fill of his view, Georg untied her with one fluid pull of the tie.</p><p>He handled her wrists carefully as he let them free, running his thumb over the welts, checking her over for bruise and injury.</p><p>For Maria, the sublime ordeal had left her shaken. She covered her face with her newly liberated hands.</p><p>Georg kneeled to lower Maria’s torn undergarments down her thighs. With care, he wordlessly guided her, fingers soft on her ankles as together they lifted them one by one. </p><p>Maria was shivering but Georg held fast as her anchor, still stupefied in the fog of their passion. </p><p>Both felt it impossible the other could be feeling it as strongly as they. Both were exposed and defenceless, slowly growing more guarded, and aware of the other’s every breath. </p><p>With a gentle, tired heart, Georg looked up at Maria. Down on his knees, he basked the glow of her naked body, humbled and earnest. The scent of her arousal perfumed the air. He longed to kiss the backs of her knees; to hold her to him in her aching, fragile state. </p><p>But he could not.</p><p>Instead he pulled her skirts back into place, quietly pocketing the frayed slip of her underwear as he rose to stand behind her. </p><p>Georg gently slipped his arm under Maria’s waist and carefully lifted her from the bureau. He held her close, and as he hushed his quiet encouragement, she pushed herself off, arms trembling under her weight.</p><p>When Maria finally came to from her stupor, they were sat up on the desk, sides flush against each other. The Captain’s warm, toned body seemed to prop her up, holding her steady as if drunk on wine.</p><p>Georg’s eyes were downcast, focused on his wrists as he buttoned his cuffs. His tie was already in place, ready to hold their secrets at the base of his throat.</p><p>Maria, tired and bemused, massaged her brow with her palm.</p><p>Although she knew little, she understood the Captain’s expert hands had not fulfilled their potential: that he had deliberately led her to his Eden only to leave her wanting outside its walls. He’d held the apple to her lips and demanded she bit. The taste still lingered on her tongue, juices dribbling sweetly down her chin - she longed for more.</p><p>Her spirit ravaged by desire, Maria felt overcome. For just a moment, she closed her eyes and let her head rest on the Captain's shoulder.</p><p>Conquered by her softness, Georg’s hands stilled, lowering towards his lap. His attachment to her was strong: it diffused his focus.</p><p>“I’m sorry - the gift from your father…” Maria murmured, her small voice tender. She looked up at him, face alive with kindness.</p><p>In the gaze of her innocent green eyes Georg sighed hopelessly, losing all sense of dominance with her lightest touch. </p><p>Maria now saw him clearly: face open and startlingly young, his unchecked affection spilled into the room.</p><p>Time was gentle with them, laying down in a moment for soft, soft stillness.</p><p>Maria blushed.</p><p>He was so, impossibly, unendingly, handsome. </p><p>Out of his senses and spent of strength, Georg brushed his knuckle along her jaw. Totally unguarded he looked into her deeply, the bliss of being seen flooding his heart.</p><p>But within a second he had frozen over, that glacial mask turning him distant. </p><p>Maria watched while he stood, warmth disappearing as he moved away. </p><p>Georg reached for his jacket and put it on with mechanical grace. He did not look at her as he fixed his collar. He simply lifted up his chin - mouth stern and eyes ahead - and buttoned the top of his shirt.  </p><p>“That’ll be all, Fräulein,” he said coolly, politely bidding her goodnight as he left.</p><p>Alone on the desk in the muted light, Maria began to shiver. Protectively she rubbed a hand along her chest, looking at the door, thighs slick, tightly-wound pussy bare and quivering.</p><p>Moving across the hall, Georg gently stroked the silk bow between his fingers, hidden away in his trouser pocket. </p><p>Then, to the unending joy of his party, he re-entered the drawing room and closed the door. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Help me see it</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Imag cred: fuckyeahthesoundofmusic</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p>It was too warm for these long sleeves. </p><p>Too hot for the purgatorial inferno that raged inside her body. </p><p>The fever flared at the sound of his voice; it moaned headily at the scent of his musk. </p><p>It was a torment. A flickering, unending summer storm: confounding, brutal and lovely.</p><p>Maria’s wrists were indeed a little pink, but Georg’s knots had been expertly crafted, leaving no hint of his bondage behind. </p><p>Still, Maria remained vigilant, blushing violently when the children frowned up at their governess, eyes alive with curiosity as her reverie increasingly overtook her. </p><p>She brushed them off, her careful, serious gaze enough to soothe their innocent wonder.</p><p>“Frau Schmidt,” Maria asked as they sat alone together in the shade.</p><p>“Yes, my dear?” The housekeeper’s words were languid and kind as she fanned herself with care. Frau Schmidt glanced over to the governess, whose eyes were still trained on her charges as they played amongst the apple trees. </p><p>“Has the Captain ever raised a hand to his children?” Maria finally turned her gaze to Frau Schmidt, a small crease forming between her brows. The query has been impulsive, but it was earnest. </p><p>As Maria searched her companion’s face she was met with an incredulous frown.</p><p>“<em>Captain von Trapp, strike his children? </em> Oh no,” Frau Schmidt frowned. “No, no, no...” </p><p>As she spoke she shook her head with the kind of gravity only a woman her age could. </p><p>“In all the years I’ve been here I have never seen that man raise a hand in anger to anyone…” she continued with a warm peal of respect colouring her voice. “Neither his children <em> nor </em> his late wife,” she nodded.</p><p>Maria let out a long breath, unknowingly held, and released herself into the back of the chair.</p><p>“Yes…” Maria replied, distractedly running her fingers along the soft flesh of her inner wrist. “Yes, I’d expected as much.”</p><p>“The Captain can be a little <em> stern</em>,” Frau Schmidt added, seemingly not yet finished, “and I shouldn’t say this really,” she continued, lowering her voice conspiratorially, “not to you... But I suspect a warm heart resides underneath all that… <em> formality </em>.”</p><p>The housekeeper’s eyes darted over Maria’s shoulder. She nodded her head in recognition as a maid appeared from the patio doors, signalling for her attention. </p><p>“You’re a good girl, my dear,” Frau Schmidt patted Maria’s shoulder after she had stood. “In truth, I think we’re all very lucky to have you.”</p><p>She left gracefully, the scent of lilies shimmering in her wake.</p><p>Maria eyed the horizon of the lake, the line as cool and fine as silver. The tension of her body - its inherent, girlish confusion - now unwound and her shoulders released their hidden, aching stiffness. </p><p>Frau Schmidt's words seemed to echo. Scales tipping, intimacies sharpening into focus. </p><p>
  <em>"Nor his wife..." </em>
</p><p>Maria lifted her chin ever so slightly, awash with a novel sense of calm - and strength. </p><p>So, it was theirs. This… euphoric, veiled exchange.  </p><p>Unequivocally, entirely theirs. </p><p>Maria exhaled deeply and took a long, cooling sip of water.</p><p>With a smile she raised her arm in reply to Marta, who stood waving keenly from across the lawn, a chain of daisies knotted into the dark mass of her shining black hair. </p><p>It was theirs... </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Do as I say</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Chapter warnings: pretty explicit smut, breath-play, self-pleasure, purity-kink<br/>Image cred: dontcallyourhusbanddaddy</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
  
</p><p>Georg started when he heard the knock at his door.</p><p>He lowered his hand from his mouth, sharpened gaze eyeing the spot from which the faint tap-tap-tap had emanated. </p><p>Serious, cautious, he rose from his chair and placed his battered copy of Rousseau on the dresser. </p><p>He thought to call out - demand an announcement - but he also felt curious.</p><p>
  <em>Whoever could be so brazen as to disturb him so late in the evening? </em>
</p><p>Unconsciously, his mind flickered to his bedside table, Maria’s ribbon and the crystal shards hidden mindfully behind lock and key.</p><p>Georg craned his neck as he opened the door. </p><p>He sighed as he saw her, standing dumbfounded and unbuttoned before his feminine tormentor. </p><p>“Fräulein Maria…” he frowned. His voice was unwavering, formal: <em> just in case… </em></p><p>His eyes darted around the hall, searching for signs of observation. </p><p>
  <em> What was she doing?  </em>
</p><p>He fastened the top button of his shirt. If she was seen outside his quarters, and at this hour, it could be ruinous.  </p><p>Maria trembled in the thin strip of light that escaped his room. She was unable to meet his gaze, arms loosely crossed around her body, goosebumps puckering her skin.</p><p>“Captain…”</p><p>Panic flickered across Georg’s face like a wave, the tender father shaken at sudden, horrid prospects. “The children-”</p><p>“Oh - no, forgive me,” Maria hastily soothed. “They are well. Sleeping soundly.”</p><p>“Ah... Good. I -” Georg stiltedly replied. “Good.” </p><p>His grip on the door lessened but his unease did not. </p><p>
  <em> What was she doing here?  </em>
</p><p>This was not their agreement: not the rules they’d silently agreed.</p><p>He was agitated. Frightened.</p><p><em>Hopeful.</em> </p><p>Georg watched Maria carefully, unspeaking as she self-consciously brushed her neck with her fingers. </p><p>Silence persisted.</p><p>Over his shoulder Maria glimpsed the Captain’s bed. Within a flash she imagined herself bound to it, moaning into his dominion as he inflicted his exquisite torture in the dark.</p><p>Colour rose to her cheeks. She prayed he wouldn’t notice. She shut her eyes for a moment, confounded and afraid of her feelings. They pooled in her sex - threatening to rip open her ribs and to display her heart as some holy vestige, glinting above its candles in dark velvet and glass.</p><p>“Forgive me,” she repeated, turning to leave.</p><p>Georg chanced and grabbed Maria’s wrist. The action brought him to meet her in the hall, embroiling them both in her provocative act.</p><p>His fingers glowed alight with the feel of his skin on hers. It flew up his shoulders, flames licking at his chest.</p><p>Maria met his eye (so soft and curious), her green gaze swimming with unspoken substance.</p><p>Georg felt his cock begin to throb at the memory of her soft, breathy moans.</p><p>
  <em>How easy it would be to drag her to his bed; to make her his mistress... </em>
</p><p>But this was a finer torment. It was holy. And greater than any ruined reputation.</p><p><em>Her face: it's starting to freckle</em>, he thought.</p><p>The Captain did not need to say anything. He simply let go of her wrist and waited, his glare seeping into her meaningfully. </p><p><em> Why are you here? </em> <em>Please, tell me why you are here...</em></p><p>Maria sighed and swallowed down her fear. </p><p>In the Captain's patience she found her strength. Honesty spilled from her lips.</p><p>“I want…” she bit her lip and glanced at the ground. </p><p>As Maria gathered herself Georg stepped nearer. His breath stilled.</p><p>They could feel each other pulsating in the air. </p><p>“Yes, Fräulein?” His voice was so careful.</p><p>Georg was glad of his tone: cool and hard, it betrayed nothing of the warmth within.</p><p>And then, suddenly, the truth was out, hardly encased in her whisper. </p><p>“I want you to teach me...” breathed Maria, gazing straight up at him.</p><p>The request reverberated between them. They looked at each other, unmoving and silent, minds whirring in mutual assessment.</p><p>Maria felt her pulse beat violently as Georg stood strong as steel before her, giving nothing of himself away. </p><p>But behind his facade, Georg’s heart beat wildly, wrought with tender care and stupefaction. He sighed, frowning slightly as he looked to her mouth.</p><p>For a moment it seemed he were going to touch her, brush her cheek perhaps... Or maybe he was about to scold her, bring thunder down around her for breaching their careful rules. </p><p>Maria stood suspended as Georg considered her, eyes leaping minutely across every inch of her face.</p><p>It felt like an age. An agony. </p><p>Under his gaze, Maria’s hands began to tremble. Her neck felt flushed, skin tingling up her jaw. </p><p>The corners of the Captain’s mouth tightened and he glanced across the villa.</p><p>Finally, closing the door behind him, he took Maria’s hand and began to lead her down the hall. He did not look back as they walked together in the dusky light, footsteps soft against the carpet. </p><p>Mortified, frightened, yet alive with longing, Maria daren’t ask where he was taking her. Daren’t open her mouth as they descend the staircase together.</p><p>Every night since that first in his study, she’d tried to reckon with the sensations that wracked her body. They kissed at her breasts and sighed between her thighs. They ached, prayed and yearned for she knew not what.</p><p>And now, the heat of his skins against hers... She shouldn’t have come. </p><p>Maria knew the man who now led her through the dark was the only soul who would ever show her the way; who would help her to understand what it was that coursed through her being with his every fervid thought, word and touch. </p><p>She could not stand it any longer. She wanted to know. She wanted his instruction. She had to have it. <em>She had to have him.</em></p><p>“Sit,” Georg commanded.</p><p>The door clicked shut. He pocketed the key. </p><p>Maria slowly perched on the desk, sitting on her hands as she shivered into the black dimness of the study. </p><p>Her breath was heavy while she watched him, eyes glinting as he approached. His face looked stern but his voice- it sounded softer than usual. Her thighs trembled.</p><p><em> God help me</em>.</p><p>“You want a teacher,” Georg began. He came to sit beside her on the desk, arms crossed with his typical self-assurance - learned and bright like armour.</p><p>Maria’s jaw clenched and she dipped her head to look at her lap.</p><p><em> Don’t make me beg you</em>.</p><p>Georg watched as Maria lifted her chin, eyes fixed on the shadow of the armoire across the room. </p><p>“Yes, Captain,” she whispered.</p><p>“<em>Mm... </em> ” he acknowledged. He toyed, yes, but wanted to step carefully: to understand her.</p><p>
  <em> Were his hands shaking? </em>
</p><p>She seemed to glow in this light... </p><p>Georg glanced at the simple crucifix that hung about Maria’s neck. She deserved his attentiveness- and his care. Perhaps more than he could give her. He swallowed down his unworthiness, his habit of self-criticism still lingering within him.  </p><p>Finally, his voice met her. It was gentle; a comely kind of song that seemed to bruise her skin. </p><p>“Tell me what it is you want, Fräulein. And I will do my best to obey you.”</p><p>His declaration was simple, and he honesty piercing them both.</p><p>Sat beside her, the Captain's face dappled by the dark. His expression seemed unreadable. <em>He was so beautiful. </em></p><p>“I want to know,” she began, “how to feel…the way you make me feel.”</p><p>Georg’s breath hitched. He seemed to want to ask something but Maria raised a hand and closed her eyes. </p><p>“When you touch me,” she continued with difficulty, “I mean- <em> before </em> -” she brushed her forehead anxiously with her hand, “when you… <em> punish </em> and… when you bring me pleasure. I have never… <em> I have never</em>…” Maria closed her eyes. </p><p>Arms still folded across his body, the tips of Georg’s fingers bore into his arm, marking him hotly with the ardour of his need for her.</p><p>But something sad pricked at his brows: <em>what was it?</em> It was vulnerable and uncomfortable. He felt it quiver in his chest. <em> God help him…  </em></p><p>Georg waited. He would assume nothing, although he burned for everything. </p><p>“I want you to teach me… I want you to-”</p><p>Maria sighed and ran her hot, shaking palms down her thighs. She didn’t know how to say it. </p><p>“You want me to teach you how to pleasure yourself.”</p><p>Maria turned to the Captain, her gaze wild with surprise. In truth, she had no idea of what she wanted - but to hear him say the words, to understand and articulate her yearning to simply; it blistered her very soul. </p><p>Shame began to ripple through her, sex throbbing wildly.</p><p>Which was greater Maria could not tell: the wrath of God, or the violent, longing moan of her body. She was a loyal agent of them both and she looked to the Captain as her confessor: <em>her teach</em>er. Before his power, she had nowhere to hide. She could but kneel before him.</p><p>Maria slowly nodded, shy eyes meeting his dark, unwavering gaze.</p><p>
  <em> What must he think of her? </em>
</p><p>Georg swallowed the sharp pain that now dug into his throat. He could scarcely breathe.</p><p><em> God</em>...</p><p>His mind was assaulted with the hot scent of her; the intoxicating image of this innocent postulant begging him to help her find her ecstasy. </p><p>He imagined taking her on the desk as she was, muffled in the dark as he had his way. He longed to hear her moan beneath him, to teach her all the heady, debauched ways he could take her to sensual abandon. To destroy that palace of chaste perfection.</p><p>Fuck. <em> Fuck… </em></p><p>
  <em>Was it his depravity that had polluted her pretty soul? Or was it she who had coloured him?</em>
</p><p>His fists clenched as his sides. Hot and angry. Ready to take. Ready to wrack with soothing kisses… It was becoming unmanageable. </p><p>Silently Georg stood and moved away, momentarily submerging himself in the dark.</p><p>Maria’s already frantic heart seemed to skip in fear.</p><p>
  <em> Where was he going? Was he going to leave her here alone in her shame? Did he mean to punish her? Whip and censure her until her body bloomed blue? </em>
</p><p>Her sex tightened desperately at the thought.</p><p>
  <em> Please, don’t leave me…  </em>
</p><p>Maria heard the dry swish of a match. For a moment the Captain was illuminated across the room, a swift, bright angel in the devilish gloom. As he returned, he brought the warm glow of an oil lamp with him. It hung about him like an inverted shadow, casting his bright and sinful wings wide across the walls. </p><p>With care, the Captain placed the lamp on the desk beside her, the light from the hollow globe licking at his neck he came close. His shoulder brushed against her bare arm. The cologne he wore was faded, but lingered about him, staining her air, mixing with the oily scent of the lamp’s fuel. </p><p>Maria shook with anticipation.</p><p>“I want to see you,” he told her, eyes meeting hers.</p><p>The amber light caressed at Maria’s arms; kissed jealously at her throat.</p><p>Georg felt cocooned in the light. The rest of the world seemed hidden from their view- and they from it. He came to stand before her, arms placed on the desk either side of her slender frame. It was perfectly unbearable.</p><p>“I want you to promise me something.”</p><p>“Captain?” Maria frowned, struggling to concentrate as she watched his mouth. </p><p>“You’re going to do exactly as I tell you, when I tell you and how I tell you. Is that understood?”</p><p>“Yes, Captain.”</p><p>“You promised me your obedience...”</p><p>She looked him softly in the eye: “You have it.” </p><p>
  <em> You have me. </em>
</p><p>There was a thick pause. Just the two of them, alone in the quiet.</p><p>“Close your eyes,” Georg finally instructed, glancing at her mouth before he could help it.</p><p>He watched her carefully while he began to unknot his tie, material whistling against his collar as he gruffly yanked it free. Maria bristled at the familiar sound, centre aching with the memory. </p><p>She listened fixedly to the Captain's steady breathing as he leant forward to tie it at the back of her head, mouth hovering close to her ear. </p><p><em>How could he be so steady? Did he not feel as she did</em>? </p><p>Georg could see her pulse rapidly beating at her throat. He swallowed.</p><p>Blindfolded like this Maria could see nothing. She couldn’t see <em>him</em>. </p><p>She gasped as the Captain roughly grabbed her chin. “Whatever happens, you’re going to be quiet. Aren’t you?”</p><p>“Yes, sir...” she whispered.</p><p>“Otherwise, I will have to gag you. And we don’t want that...” His firm on her jaw tight, Georg ran his thumb over her bottom lip, “do we, Fräulein?”</p><p>He had meant to be good. He really had. </p><p>“No, sir...”</p><p>“Good girl,” he sultrily replied in her ear. “I don’t want any of your needy little moans waking half the house.”</p><p>Georg unceremoniously released her jaw and moved away. Maria felt the absence of his heat as if she’d been stripped of her clothes. Her thighs trembled, sweating palms flexing against the skirt of her dress. Her undergarments had grown slick, rubbing against the swollen flesh of her sex.</p><p>She accidentally hummed out a little moan. </p><p>
  <em> Where was he? </em>
</p><p>She could hear him moving softly about the room but she was dizzied and unable to keep her bearings.</p><p>
  <em> Was this part of her master’s lesson? </em>
</p><p>Her other senses piqued. Everything was sharp and painfully intense. Maria turned her head, trying to find him, but Georg had taken a seat opposite her, reclining carefully in his chair.</p><p>Maria gripped the desk tight. </p><p>“Shall we begin, Fräulein?”</p><p>The position of his voice startled her. </p><p>The heat of the lamp felt like a spotlight, illuminating her for his pleasure as he hid unseen in the dark. </p><p>“Yes, Captain...”</p><p>“You still want to learn?”</p><p>“Please. I do.”</p><p>He waited. He took his time. He rested his mouth on his hand, arm bent up from the armchair, careful, desperate, devoted. </p><p>
  <em> Let’s begin. </em>
</p><p>“Tell me what you feel.”</p><p>“I…” Maria squirmed in her vulnerability.</p><p>
  <em> How could she find the words? </em>
</p><p>
  <em>How could she articulate the foreign, frightening sensations that had led her to him, again and again… describe her feelings while they moaned within her like a fervid prayer?  </em>
</p><p>“I feel…” she fumbled, running her mind across her body like fingers through a book. Finally she found her voice. “I feel your desk beneath me,” she started slowly, stepping across the threshold. </p><p>Georg was patient with her. As he rolled his forefinger and his thumb together, he stayed quiet, watching her carefully, controlling his heart rate.</p><p>“I feel the tie across my eyes... your tie - and I can… its scent. It smells like you…” </p><p>The darkness hid her blush, but her body betrayed her wholly.</p><p>Georg scanned every flex and spasm; listened to every breath as keenly as a hunter. But he felt softly towards her too. Honoured, perhaps.</p><p>“You like it?”</p><p>“Yes…”</p><p>“What does it do to you? My<em> scent</em>?”</p><p>Maria unconsciously brushed her fingers up her arm.</p><p>“Hot, pained- like I have a fever-”</p><p>She gripped at her chest, a fist of her orange blouse pooling desperately in her fingers. </p><p>“It makes me think of when… my body remembers how-”</p><p>“Where?” He interrupted.</p><p>“All over me- my skin burns and,” she caught her breath, touched, her neck, “shivers down my spine.”</p><p>Georg felt her every touch of her body as if against his own. He watched her hands explore herself, teasing him to distraction.</p><p>“What else?”</p><p>Maria answered truthfully. “I can feel your voice.” </p><p>Georg felt that one. Deep in his belly.</p><p>Maria blushed. It was as if she wore his timbre like clothes- bathed in it. How else to say it?</p><p>“Where?” He growled. “Show me…”</p><p>Maria’s breath was ragged. His tone rumbled low and deep.</p><p>“In my stomach,” she breathed, palms gently resting on her belly, tips stroking the cotton pleats of her skirt. “And my mouth…” he touched her lips with the tip of her fingers. “And…” with trembling hands she lowered her touch to her breasts: “here...” her voice was sultry, hoarse and accidental. </p><p>Georg’s fist, resting at his lips, clenched as Maria carefully ran her hands against the curves of her chest. </p><p>“And…” she whispered, as her hands froze.</p><p>“Show me…”</p><p>Her breath was messy- ragged.</p><p>“Fräulein...” the Captain cautioned.</p><p>Her palms stuttering, Maria brushed her hands down her body, pushing them between her thighs. “Here,” she said, her voice barely audible.</p><p>“Mm,” Georg hummed, “<em>I see.</em>”</p><p>Working hard to keep his control, Georg brushed the back of his fingers along his mouth, eyes burning into her shy hands.</p><p>His voice was low and intimate. “I want you to listen to my voice, Fräulein.” It rumbled deeply through the room, sultry and inescapable. “Keep touching where you feel me - softly. You remember how?”</p><p>Yes, Maria remembered perfectly well: how he had pinned her to the desk, cruel caresses making her writhe and moan with ecstasy.</p><p>She merely nodded, hungry and ashamed.</p><p>That familiar liquid heat had returned; she could feel it radiating through her pelvis, upper thighs slipping against each other with its potency.</p><p>She wondered if he knew.</p><p>
  <em> How could she possibly tell him something so sinful? </em>
</p><p>“What is it like to feel me between your thighs, Maria?”</p><p>She thanked him for giving her this strange anonymity, protected from her vulnerability beneath the dark horizon of his tie.</p><p>Maria hummed in pleasure and discomfort, chest heaving. Her lips parted as she let her head fall, back arching in pleasure.</p><p>Georg felt struck with wonder as she blossomed before him, opening in full power, beautiful as a wildflower.  </p><p>“What is it like…?” Maria repeated. She rolled the words around her tongue and pressed a long, shaky stroke of her palm up her inner thighs, just as he bade her.</p><p>
  <em>To feel him between her thighs… </em>
</p><p>What untold pleasure lay before her, she wondered.</p><p>“Mhmm..” she sighed. “It’s a kind of tingling. Against my skin. Warm, desperate - <em> unbearable… </em> I feel pleasure in my thighs and,” she added shyly, ”deep inside me…”</p><p>Georg swallowed and lifted his chin as he waited. Her innocence made her a perfect tease.</p><p>“Mn, Sir... I-” she whined. <em> “</em>It aches<em>. So much. </em>It hurts me...” she cried softly, head falling back a little with further want as she began to tease her sex through her dress. </p><p>Georg’s cock throbbed, hard.</p><p>He’d give his life a hundred times over to bury himself in her - to push himself into that aching, tight, untouched pussy that yearned just for him: that <em>pained her</em> from the sheer force of her want.</p><p>
  <em> Did she know? Did she understand what this meant for them both? </em>
</p><p>How could she ever...It was too much. </p><p>Carefully, Georg placed a hand on his cock, the hard, thick line of him groaning against his trousers. He would be careful- elevate the rabid tension only when he must. Control was everything.</p><p>He could not take his eyes off her.</p><p>“Show me how much it aches…”</p><p>Through her skirt, Maria began to run shy circles of her fingers against her womanhood. A high pitched moan escaped her lips. “Mn… I don’t know how,” she peeled, words betrayed by the careful movements of her hand.</p><p>“Yes, you do,” Georg assuaged her. “I already showed you. Don’t you remember, Fräulein...? How I bent you over that desk and gave you what you deserved?" his tone grew tone thick and testing. "How I treated you like the bad, disobedient girl you are..?”</p><p>The breath caught in Maria’s chest. She began to grind harder into herself. She hummed a reply. Georg loved to watch her fingers tremble. </p><p>“Show me what I taught you,” Georg demanded cooly, voice desperately smooth. He had never spoken like this in his life- had scarcely let himself imagine these wicked things that now soaked them in their liquor. </p><p>Maria licked her bottom lip. Shakily she leant back on the desk, weight propped by her palm.</p><p>Then she began to bunch her skirt in her hand, pulling it up achingly slowly until it pooled about her waist. </p><p>
  <em>Just as I taught you...</em>
</p><p>“I want you to unbutton your blouse....”</p><p>Maria mindlessly followed his instruction, each small button slipping from its eye as she slowly made her way down her chest.</p><p>Once unfastened to her waist, she pushed apart the cotton folds. </p><p>The ooze of the lamp light flickered against the curve of her cleavage, highlighting the force of her breathing for her captive audience of one.</p><p>Her simple white bodice shone in the dark. Georg noted its careful trims of lace. <em>So modest and pure. </em></p><p>“Now,” he rumbled. “Open your legs...”</p><p>With an eager, quiet whimper, Maria slowly obeyed and revealed herself to him.</p><p>The pearl-coloured slip of her underwear was elegant and loose-fitting, the dark valley of her slick sex barely hidden.</p><p>“Do you still feel me?”</p><p>“Mn... yes, Sir,” she sighed, coyness lessening as she slowly grew lost in the wilderness of her desire.</p><p>Georg tilted his head to take her in, yearning to stroke himself through the fabric of his trousers.  </p><p>
  <em>So sweet and pretty...</em>
</p><p>“Does it still ache?”</p><p>Maria let her fingers glide along the silken folds of her womanhood, dragging back and forth, pressing harder as the pressure grew. </p><p>“Yes...” she whispered. </p><p>Georg watched as she began to use the heel of her palm, grinding it into herself as her pelvis began to tilt.</p><p>“Nnnm...” he hummed under his breath. <em> Fuck. </em></p><p>“Does that feel better?” He asked condescendingly. </p><p>She gasped as the material slipped against her slickness, hot and damp on her skin.</p><p>“Yess, Sir...”</p><p>“Good girl...” Georg soothed with an small smile, eyes flicking between her fingers and the ragged rise and fall of her chest. “It must feel good...” he gripped his cock, stroking himself thickly as the savage in him began to awaken.</p><p>
  <em>What would it be rip apart her thighs and bury his tongue in her heat- to hear her scream with raw, frightening pleasure. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>How would it feel to ruin her... </em>
</p><p>“Does it feel good to touch yourself like that? To soothe that <em> terrible </em> ache?”</p><p>“Yes, master...” she groaned.</p><p>"Show me."</p><p>With his permission, Maria finally touched the naked, hot, glossy swell of her folds, fingertips slipping against the slick.</p><p>She stifled a moan, trying desperately to stay quiet and obey his instruction: to earn his precious praise. </p><p>Feeling a sudden surge of dominance, Georg lent forward in his chair, voice impossibly dark and eyes as bright as fire. </p><p>His words were slow, commanding. “Tell me, Fräulein. Exactly how wet for me are you?”</p><p>Maria let out a little cry of exquisite shock, panting desperately as his words shot through her like an epiphany. She bit her lip, silencing herself, fingers still gliding against her velvet folds.</p><p>
  <em> How could she ever answer him? </em>
</p><p>The way her fingers slipped against her wetness, the so lovely and new...</p><p>She wished to be cast adrift; disappear in the abandon he had carved out for her.</p><p>But Georg was not about to let that happen.</p><p>He wanted her to stay with him, bound to his side as if led through a dance.</p><p>The pleasure might be hers, but the dominion was his. </p><p>Suddenly he was before her, standing close and bringing his scent and heat with him. </p><p>“Show me,” he commanded.</p><p>Maria began to shake her head, but cried out when Georg grabbed her by the hair, a hard fist-full of it burning at her skull.</p><p>It made the raw ache between her thighs all the more delicious, piercing her like a stream of warm milk: breaking her open.</p><p>She bit down, muffling another moan as he moved to stand between her thighs.</p><p>“Show me,” he burned, “how wet you are for me...”</p><p>Enflamed with shame and driven by longing, Maria lifted her hand between them.</p><p>Georg took hold of her wrist, grasping tightly as she tried to writhe from his grip.</p><p>The wet mess of her arousal made her fingers glisten in the lamplight. He cocked his head to drink in the sight of them, eyes finally resting on her face.</p><p>Her cheeks were hot and pink, and Georg’s mouth twitched with a smile, hiding how alive and humbled he felt. The scent of her was intoxicating. </p><p>“Is this what I do to you, Fräulein?” he teased in hushed castigation.</p><p>Obstinately, Maria said nothing, trying her best to resist - or perhaps to rile him. </p><p>Georg relished her frustration, mouth watering from the sight of her.</p><p>Dark blue eyes fixed on her face, he slowly leant forward and took Maria’s fingers in his mouth.</p><p>Her lips parted wantonly in reply, blindly acquiescing while she mewled helplessly into the dark.</p><p>The way the wet heat of his tongue mingled with the slickness of her sex… It somehow felt more intimate than anything he’d done before. <em>Scandalising</em>. </p><p>Georg took his time. Gently he sucked at the sweetness of her, a deep, low moaning emanating from his chest.</p><p>
  <em> Fuck… To finally taste her. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>To know. </em>
</p><p>Georg eyed her lips greedily- their eager little oval promiscuously begging to be filled. He gripped her hair harder and she moaned into the air.</p><p>Then, fingers tight around her wrist, he pulled her hand away from his mouth and wiped his lower lip with his thumb.</p><p>Maria sucked in a shaky breath, paralysed from the shock of pleasure. </p><p>“Sitting on this desk..." Georg softly began. "Remembering all the things I’ve done to you. Is that what makes you ache, Maria?”</p><p>She shivered deeply. The questions were corrupting. She let them rush through her veins.</p><p>
  <em>To hear him use her name - and like this… </em>
</p><p>Georg lowered her hand back between her legs. “<em>Continue</em>,” he ordered before repeating his question. “Is it?” he demanded.</p><p>“S- yess, sir...”</p><p>“Hmm...” He languidly pretended to consider her admission.</p><p>The Captain released his fist in her hair, instead bringing his hand to hold her jaw.</p><p>Maria longed to see him, watch him rule over her like his desperate plaything.</p><p>She thought of his bed again, and being bound to it tightly, binds burning against her wrists.</p><p>
  <em> It was humiliating. So why did she like it? </em>
</p><p>“Is that what it’s like when you lay awake at night?” Georg ran the pad of his thumb along her bottom lip, hissing when Maria slipped her tongue against the tip.</p><p><em>Learning fast, </em> he thought.</p><p>
  <em>What a good girl...</em>
</p><p>“Wondering how to touch yourself...” again he rubbed his thumb, now wet from her saliva, over her lip, holding her jaw tight and preventing her from moving. “Pussy soaking but with nobody to pleasure you- <em>I didn’t say you could stop,” </em>he ordered in her ear, sensing the hand between her thighs had stilled.</p><p>Maria moaned out a sigh and continued to touch herself.</p><p>“...soaking, just like this... <em>Desperate for my cock</em>, like this?”</p><p>She could never imagine being spoken to like this. Tongue as ravishing as touch.</p><p>“Hmm?” He yanked her face, fingers pressing into her jaw.</p><p>
  <em>Who was this monstrous, gorgeous creature before her? </em>
</p><p>His voice penetrated her through, rumbling against her clit, now swollen, as she circled it messily again and again.</p><p>Georg hissed as smooth as honey, roughy letting go of her chin.</p><p>“Poor, sweet girl...” he looked down at her thighs, watching her fingertips work over her most sensitive spot. “Does that feel good?” he asked her honestly, brushing a lock of hair from her forehead. </p><p>“Yes, sir…” she whined, head tilting backwards.</p><p>Georg could see Maria was falling into oblivion, body losing form as it began to shudder, helpless. </p><p>He released her sat beside her, lifting her hand from the desk to instead let her lean her weight into him.</p><p>It was calming: the taut warm line of him against her back, shoulder kissing shoulder.</p><p>“Maria,” his voice had changed. “I want you to imagine you’re all alone. Can you do that?”</p><p>Georg felt tender, remembering how she had come to him in such trusting vulnerability. </p><p>“Nmm,” Maria sighed.</p><p>"Shhh..." he soothed.</p><p>Pressure was building in the apex of Maria's thighs, scratching in her pelvis and deep her belly.</p><p>It was shooting down her legs. Her pulse was quickening. </p><p>“Lay into me,” Georg gently told her. He took her weight, resting his head atop hers. “Just listen to my voice.” </p><p>He took Maria’s hand, now sitting idly in her lap, and began to rub circles against her skin. </p><p>His mouth was touching the shell of her ear. </p><p>“I want you to carefully graze the inside of your thighs with the backs of your fingers," he breathed. "Softly. Like you have all the time in the world…”</p><p>Maria followed his instruction, the brutal tension she had felt building ebbing to a gentler type of pleasure.</p><p>“Imagine it's,” he stopped himself, “... someone you care about deeply. Touching you. Loving you. As if all that mattered was you… your pleasure.”</p><p>Maria turned her face into him, eyes still bound in his tie. She rested there, against his collarbone.</p><p>“Play with yourself, gently... explore…” his voice was achingly soft, almost muted against her skin. </p><p>Maria breathed him in, soothed by his warmth and the rumble of his voice. She exhaled. These gentler sensations were a welcome relief.</p><p>“Take time with yourself... find out what you want.” <em> Show me what you want. </em></p><p>Maria touched herself teasingly, sighing into the pleasure. She remembered the Captain's on her body the other night - what it had done for her.</p><p>She wanted to know her body as he did. </p><p>Georg raised her hand to his mouth and kissed the back of it. “I want you..." he placed it on her chest and imaged the dark bud of her nipples, never touched in pleasure in her life. “To slip your fingers into your bodice.”</p><p>Maria’s breath hitched. “Shh…” Georg soothed, brushing his mouth against her temple. “Now carefully caress yourself: find the pace you like; the touch you like; where feels the nicest...”</p><p>Maria began to run her fingers over her skin, pads skating over her collarbone while she continued to tease her inner thighs. </p><p>“Is this how...?” Maria breathed, the whisper disappearing into the fragrant tang of his throat.</p><p>
  <em>Is this how you would touch me?</em>
</p><p>The half-formed question penetrated Georg's chest. He swallowed, voice husky as he replied. “Is that what you would imagine?” <em> He daren’t hope. </em> “If you were alone…?”</p><p>Maria buried herself further into the masculine tang of his neck. “Yes,” she finally admitted, voice barely audible. </p><p>Georg felt a swell of affection. He wanted to kiss her. </p><p>“If it were me...” Georg carefully lifted her hand back to his mouth, sucking sweetly on the tips of her fingers, “touching you…” he kissed them, “exploring you…” Georg lowered it back to her chest and then, guiding it beneath his own, slipped it under her bodice. He listened to her ragged breathing. “...I’d want to touch you oh-so-softly…” he guided her to cup her breast, fingers curling around its soft curve, “<em>painfully so</em>...” he whispered, hearing her whimper.</p><p>“But, then again…” he firmly pinched her fingers around her nipple.</p><p>Maria gasped deeply, back arching off his body.</p><p>Georg buried his mouth in her hair, watching how she once again teased herself through the thin material of her panties.</p><p>“<em>So good</em>…” he hummed. “Doesn’t that feel good?”</p><p>Maria couldn’t speak. Instead she slipped her fingers between her folds, feeling them glide against her pussy: so impossibly wet. She bit down on her teeth as she groaned.</p><p>Georg removed his hand from her bodice as she continued to tease herself, just as he taught her.</p><p>He held her close to him, hand pressed to her stomach, buried in her skirts. With his other he reached down between her thighs, fingers slipping across the silky wetness of her underwear.</p><p>Maria cried out but Georg quickly stilled her.</p><p>“Shh” he reassured, overpowering her spasms of protest with his superior strength. “I’m not going to touch you...” he said into her cheek, pinning her body to his with a splayed hand, firm across her belly. “Your teacher just wants to see how good you are. How much you’ve learned. <em> Won’t you show me, Fräulein</em>…” he demanded as he finally pulled aside her flimsy, soaked slip of underwear.</p><p>In the dim light she glistened, the quiet licks of her fingers messy and desperate.</p><p>“<em>Fuck…” </em> Georg groaned hotly to himself, old language escaping from the depths of his youth. The sound of her slick little touches were turning him wild. </p><p>Maria’s head fell back against his shoulder, his warm stubbled cheek grinding against her.</p><p>“Such a good girl…” he whispered, voice hoarse with his desire to ruin her. And there was pride - the way she excelled in this filthy game they had made of themselves.</p><p>
  <em>Too perfect. Unimaginable pleasure. </em>
</p><p>The Captain hadn’t even touched her, but at the sound of his husky praise Maria let a wild peel - a lush, feral moan - escape her lips.</p><p>Georg clamped his hand over her mouth, fingertips digging painfully into her skin.</p><p>“I told you to control that tongue of yours, did I not, Fräulein?” he hissed, secretly delighted by the primitive whine he'd elicited. “Or am I going to have to shut it for you?”</p><p>Maria whimpered helplessly into his palm. </p><p>“Just look at you..." he teased lovingly, body raw with desire, "such a mess... touching yourself with no idea of how needy you are - how helpless and desperate; so wet…”</p><p>Georg slipped his fingers into her mouth, letting her suck on them like his prize.</p><p>He was dedicated to her pleasure, determined for her to remember her first climax - <em> to remember him </em> - as long as she lived.   </p><p>“That’s it. Keep touching yourself just like that; just how you want it…” Georg took Maria by the throat, holding her tight and keeping control.</p><p>Maria continued to brush her nipple, pinching and stroking as she opened her thighs wider for him. She delighted in the rich, powerful shiver that began to spread through her groin, breaking her open like the sun.</p><p>“You like it hard don’t you,” Georg hummed, watching her fingers slip and press intently into her folds. “Hard and unforgiving, just like your master gave it to you…” He hushed, mouth pressed into her temple. </p><p>Maria hissed as the Captain squeezed her throat. Her thighs were trembling and her breathing had turned to fierce, high pitched whimpers.</p><p>He knew she was close.</p><p>“Are you going to come, Fräulein?" he soothed, words lost on her skin. "Show me how good you are. How good it feels…” </p><p>With his careful deprivation of her breath; the heady lack of sight, Maria could barely process his words.</p><p><em>What did it mean, to come? Is that what was happening to her now </em> ? <em>What felt so blissfully good? </em></p><p>As if sensing her innocence, Georg laughed softly.</p><p>“Poor, sweet girl… you have no idea, do you?” he ran the tip of his thumb against her lip, watching as Maria suckled sweetly. “The pleasure-, " his gaze darted back to her innocent, eager pussy. "The release you’re about to feel - there is nothing else like it." He grazed her lips against her jaw. Maria moaned. "I want you to show me...” He couldn’t wait to experience her pleasure- to see her bring herself to her messy, innocent climax. "I want you to come all over me..." he whispered into her, eyes closing in helplessness.It took all his strength not to bury his fingers inside her heat; to slip his fingers across her clit, just one more time.</p><p>“Please…” Maria whined. “Please master, can I come?”</p><p>Georg smiled into her.</p><p><em>My</em> g<em>ood, sweet girl… </em></p><p>He had taught her well.</p><p>
  <em> The joy he was going to have playing with her body… </em>
</p><p>
  <em>But how many nights could they keep this secret going? </em>
</p><p>“No,” he told her, watching her virgin sex glisten in the lamplight. “Not until I tell you.”</p><p>Maria now the face of pleasure. The perfect agony that could corrupt saints and topple empires.</p><p>She could feel it unlocking inside her: she could not escape it. It was engulfing her body as a wave, drawing her in completely under its current.</p><p>It was so intense it almost hurt, fanning like a palm up her stomach; down her thighs; the hot, tight epicentre throbbing beneath her fingers. </p><p>“<em>Please…” </em>she whimpered, almost like crying.</p><p>Georg ran his thumb over her mouth, hushed her tongue teasingly. He was staring at her swollen clit, all of her fingers now bruising savagely against it.</p><p>
  <em>He could still taste her. </em>
</p><p>“Not until I tell you.”</p><p>Maria let out a strangled moan as the Captain squeezed hard on her throat, building the pressure as he tugged brutishly at her underwear.</p><p>He let them rip a little, the saturated linen slipping between his fingers. He needed to see everything. </p><p>“Not until you promise me you’ll be a good little girl and do just as I’ve taught you.”</p><p>Maria gasped from his grip, blood rushing, drunk on his words and the orgasm that catered towards her. </p><p>Georg longed to fuck her with his fingers, knowing it would instantly tower her over the edge, but he also wanted this - her first - to be her own doing. To feel the power of her own pleasure: to share in her completely. </p><p>Maria moaned like an animal. Georg hummed into her cheek, barely suppressing his savage delight.</p><p>“Promise me you’ll touch yourself just like this when you’re alone in your bed,” his words were quick and hot, “just as I’ve taught you, so desperately wet and wanting me,” he squeezed her throat tightly, “<em>only me.</em>”</p><p>Maria sobbed out a whining, pathetic moan. It shamed and delighted her both, pushing her even closer to her release.</p><p>She was lost in him completely. </p><p>“<em>Say it,” </em> Georg hissed, fingers baring into her skin.</p><p>“Yess” Maria choked out as she began to squirm and writhe in his grip, the force of her climax reaching its zenith.</p><p>Georg closed his eyes and smiled into her skin.</p><p>
  <em> Fuck, the bliss. </em>
</p><p>His cock throbbed at her divine torment and at the shocking words that spilled from her mouth.</p><p>“<em>Sweet Jesus Christ... I...</em> Let me come, Master… all over you, I - I beg you. <em>Please…</em>”</p><p>“Yes,” Georg growled as he throttled his grip on her throat. “Yes, you can come for me, Fräulein.” </p><p>With the last act of his permission, the power of Maria’s orgasm brutalised her body.</p><p>She cried out forcibly, skin flushed and trembling; that breathtaking ecstasy overflowing in cruel, blissful waves. </p><p>Georg swore filthily into her ear as it gushed violently from her. It soaked her thighs; their hands; the desk that had cradled so much of their pleasure.</p><p>He knew he'd be forever stained with the trust and abandon of this wild, beautiful woman. </p><p>“Mhmm. That's it... My sweet girl,” he hushed, “Such a good<em>, good </em>girl…”</p><p>His grip still firm around her throat, Maria whined and whimpered at Georg's praise, spasming against his body while he held her close, their heat and scent mingled in a messy, heady nectar.</p><p>
  <em> Mine… yours... always. Fuck... </em>
</p><p>As she convulsed with the aftershocks, Georg kept his palm on her stomach, supporting her- holding her steady.</p><p>Despite himself, he kissed her temple, inhaling the scent of her: her skin; her sweat. </p><p>Silently the oil lamp flickered: the only voyeur to their wild transgressions.</p><p>It anointed them in amber light, binding them in their embrace, knotting them together with its shadow.</p><p>Georg tried to ignore the sensations that bloomed beyond the throbbing swell of his cock.</p><p>Something deeper had taken hold, he knew that now. </p><p>But despite the tenderness he felt as he held and stroked her, Georg knew, whatever it cost him, whether it was the last thing he’d do in this life, one day he was going to fuck this woman with untempered abandon.</p><p>Her little moans… these hot, dark nights… it was unsustainable. And deeply dangerous.</p><p>His cock, he knew, belonged deep inside her- it was made to be buried in her hot, tight depths.</p><p>His tongue yearned to sooth the sweet, slick folds of her blushed centre.</p><p>His seed seemed destined for warm planes of her eager little tongue...</p><p>
  <em>But how, when he had vowed to allow her to save herself for marriage? </em>
</p><p>Georg pushed the thought aside, electing to enjoy this moment for a little longer. </p><p>He closed his eyes.</p><p>He could still taste her on his tongue. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hi reader! And thank you for being here. If you’ve reached this far I’d be so grateful for a kudos, just to say hi and let me know that you’re here. This story has been a true labour of love for me, and it’s a joy to know people are enjoying it - whenever and wherever that may be. Now, without any further ado... onwards we go. My best |Saint Joan|</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Tell me I'm wrong</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you so much for your kudos, your comments and your time. It's a joy to get your commentary. I've also made some edits/added some inspiration images to the earlier chapters. </p><p>And lastly, to the late "fierce but tender" Christopher Plummer, whose performance and characterisation was the inspiration for this story: thank you for your beautiful work and spirit, and for bringing us the forever magnetic, forever handsome, forever indomitable Georg von Trapp...</p><p>Image cred: pixelsjournal</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p>The drawing room had its doors open wide enough to let the sound of the crickets in, and the elegant trill of the Baroness’ laughter out. It was just the three of them, Max away in Salzburg making yet another era-defining deal. Without him, the company seemed cool and stilted. The tones of Georg’s singing lingered from the night before and now the dynamic between them all had shifted. </p><p>Next to Elsa, glittering in her haute couture armour, Maria felt restless in her simple country dress. She occasionally fiddled with her sleeve, nodding along warmly with the Baroness’ fluid jokes and intelligent observations, not quite able to contribute herself. </p><p>Yet with every unconscious touch of her modest clothes, Maria captured Georg’s attention. </p><p>And he understood everything. </p><p>The postulant’s mind was swift and light, and although her large, bright eyes were warm and engaged, following every one of Elsa’s gestures with a polite kind of focus, Georg felt what lay beneath. And to some reluctant degree he felt responsible for its progeny. </p><p>Hidden within his playful repartee with the Baroness, Georg quietly read each shift of Maria’s body. </p><p>He did not need to look at her, but as he brushed his glass against his mouth, taking slow sips of wine, he felt her every breath as if bound to it by twine.</p><p>It was rather inconvenient. </p><p>While the alcohol dwindled, Georg laughed earnestly at the Baroness’s elegant little quips. Indeed, he enjoyed her company immensely, but the sparkling carousals they had shared in Vienna felt all the more out of rhythm with the contemplative beauty of his country estate - and its inhabitants. </p><p>Maria’s eyes began to sting; she stifled a yawn. </p><p>As Georg and Elsa chatted idly about their shared acquaintances and histories, she looked about the room - at the etchings and the vases, the cornices and gilding.</p><p>It was a handsome house and she adored being there. But tonight she felt tired and unsure of her place.</p><p>“Have some more wine, Maria,” Elsa proposed, loaded with a smile that charmed.</p><p>“Fräulein Maria does not imbibe like we do, my dear,” Georg replied smoothly, brushing invisible lint from his thigh. “Do not force her.”</p><p>“I’m sure the girl can speak for herself, Georg.”</p><p>“Indeed, <em> the girl </em> can… but she does not take wine at so late an hour,” he flirted pointedly before glancing at Maria with a knowing tilt of his head. “She never has.” </p><p>Under the brief gaze of his darkening eyes Maria began to blush, a little flustered and little riled. </p><p>Georg noted her lips had tightened. He felt prickly this evening yet he could not understand why. Provocative. He let a mask of casual civility hide his irritation as he swirled his wine around the glass and listened to the women speak amongst themselves. </p><p>“Maria?” Elsa asked.</p><p>“Thank you, Baroness, but it is rather late…”</p><p>“Quite right!’ she replied huskily. “The governess must stay bright eyed for all those little darlings.” Elsa glanced at Georg. “We do admire your dedication...”</p><p>“Thank you, Baroness...” Maria nodded graciously, looking at the floor</p><p>“It’s quite clear they adore you.”</p><p>“Oh, and I adore them!” Maria beamed, despite herself.</p><p>“It’s also clear that to you - my dear,” - <em> how was her voice so elegant? </em> - “it’s the children that come first. It’s most charming!” she laughed beautifully, touching Maria’s hand with remarkable condescension. “Why, I’m sure when you return to the abbey, we'll all be lost without you...”</p><p>The Baroness took a long, slow sip, eyeing Maria over her glass. The Captain cleared his throat, seemingly oblivious to the entire conversation. </p><p>“Indeed,” Maria began, rising from her chair, “and so I think I must leave you.” </p><p>“Oh, must you…?” Elsa frowned.</p><p>“I must.” Maria smiled, catching the Captain’s eye over his glass. “Goodnight.”</p><p>“Goodnight,” Elsa smiled. </p><p>“Goodnight, Captain.”</p><p>Georg merely saluted her with a half-hearted raise of his hand. The gesture was detached, indifferent even, and as Maria remembered their previous encounters, she felt her anger froth and boil.</p><p>
  <em>How could he be so distant after the covert, careful communions they had shared? </em>
</p><p>
  <em>To act in such mindless folly? </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Uphold the pretence of her utter nothingness?</em>
</p><p>When he had sang to them all last night, his soft, unguarded gaze tied up with her own, Maria had almost imagined… it had almost felt… </p><p>
  <em> What a fool. </em>
</p><p>Bursting through the kitchen, she messily unlatched the backdoor and stormed into the garden. Anything, she thought, to get away from their smug, bourgeois laughter and the clink of their pretty, matching glasses. </p><p>In her mind, Maria could still hear the murmur of their little intimacies; she could imagine Elsa and the Captain bobbing their heads knowingly at their innocent, foolish governess, floundering under the gaze of her indifferent, bewitching master. </p><p>But these ideas soon became tangled with the memories of Captain’s soft sighs against her neck; of their trusting, tender touches, scent and sex pressed skin to skin. </p><p>Her heart quickened with anger and arousal both, only adding to the fervour of her feeling. </p><p><em> Foolish, silly girl. </em> </p><p>She’d given him her body gladly, suspending all ideology, morals and values in the pursuit of a feeling so holy she could but bow at its feet. But where was that spirit now?</p><p>In their profound connection she’d lost herself, imagining she’d felt him reaching towards her the dark.</p><p>
  <em>Perhaps she had been wrong...</em>
</p><p>Walking amongst the apple trees Maria slowed, taking a moment to breathe in the cool, dewy air. </p><p>There in the garden, shame followed Maria like a shadow. </p><p>Since that night of pleasure - <em> her schooling </em> -  she had not been able to look at herself in the mirror. She could not bear the wicked creature whose image greeted her, flushed and ripe and wrapped in its own noxious mischief. </p><p>Maria squeezed her eyes shut. </p><p>
  <em>How dare the Captain curse her with his music? Awaken her with his touch? </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Why did the saintly peals of Edelweiss chime louder than any hymn or eucharist or psalm she’d ever heard? </em>
</p><p>
  <em>And how could he sit there, watching her as he sang, purring like a saint?</em>
</p><p>She grunted angrily into the night air. </p><p>For these past weeks, Maria had waited for the sour sting of God’s wrathful ire. The anticipation had hung above her like a pestilence, gnawing and bitter. </p><p>While she muttered nightly prayers for forgiveness under her breath, the devastated lament of her abbey-sisters echoed inside her like an empty chamber. Angels surely wept for what now sweetly buzzed between her thighs, sin shining through her translucent skin. </p><p>And yet… to Maria’s everlasting distress - to her unending humiliation and confusion - in truth there was no shame.</p><p>Not when she remembered the feel of Georg's tongue against her skin, nor his honeyed voice, soft in her ear.</p><p>And she could not understand it. </p><p>These nights with the Captain. It was all a wrongness. <em>Wasn’t it?  </em>Wrong for a man and a woman to --- for the body to feel so agonisingly --- </p><p>The altar of her adolescence seemed to falter, new candles flickering around emerging icons. Not eclipsed, but <em>different</em>. </p><p>Maria pressed her palms to her eyes and sighed. </p><p>The Captain burned within her. </p><p>But so did God. </p><p>
  <em>God loved her.</em>
</p><p>God loved her so deeply. </p><p>She lived in His glory every day. </p><p>And yet, she could feel God’s presence in the Captain’s touch.</p><p>In the fizzling of her skin and every swallowed moan and each sigh of her handsome employer. </p><p>Loyalties were growing muddy. Confusing.</p><p>Guilt bit meanly. </p><p><em>Please guide me</em>, she prayed.</p><p>This was not her purpose. </p><p>She had been derailed. And for what? For whom? </p><p>
  <em> Why was she sent here? </em>
</p><p>Maria recalled the jovial manner in which the Captain and the Baroness spoke in their silly nothings.</p><p>Around Elsa, a different Georg seemed to appear. <em>Who was that man?  </em>He seemed flippant- callous even.</p><p>He did not match the suitor that lead her gently into knowledge and pleasure.</p><p>Who bound her wrists but illuminated her spirit. </p><p>
  <em>With whom exactly was she entwining in the dark? Risking her soul? Did she really know? </em>
</p><p>Maria thought Georg a person of truth: a brooding, sensuous lover to whom stern grace was only one part of the facade. </p><p>But perhaps it was all mere sport.</p><p>A brilliant lie. </p><p>Perhaps the ripe fruit he had held to her lips was the very one she’d been warned about. </p><p>
  <em>How could she ever repent of such a sin? Did she even want to?</em>
</p><p>In the solitary night air, Maria’s temper cooled, congealing into confused and protective bitterness. </p><p>She resolved to turn one final time around the grounds and stepped into the walled garden, running her hands along the crumbling brick, her feet carpeted by emerald moss.</p><p>But then sudden, strong, warm hands were on her skin. </p><p>“Did I not tell you,” hissed a smooth masculine voice as Maria was pushed into a nearby alcove, “wandering the grounds at so late an hour was forbidden?”</p><p>Georg had come for her. Just as he always would. </p><p>Maria panted deeply, angered and aroused and prickly with a surprising amount of disdain.</p><p>The Captain’s mouth was pressed against her ear, his fingers coiled tightly around her wrist, which he held hotly to her back.</p><p>With her free hand Maria pressed helplessly against the wall, trying to find purchase against the vines.</p><p>“Hm?” Georg pressed forcibly, gripping with even greater force. </p><p>Maria’s bud tightened at the feel of his frame on hers. The heat of his chest warmed her back.</p><p>Little did Georg know her previous repentance still hung in the air like a dew... </p><p>“I hardly thought you’d notice,” Maria bit back with ferocity as she struggled against his grip, flustered and hungry. </p><p>“Oh, <em> I notice everything, </em>” whispered the Captain thickly. He breathed in her scent, always reading, always guiding, always in control. </p><p>He still had her pinned in place and smiled as Maria hummed throatily. She felt hot and tight, all coiled in anger. Her chest was heaving, powerless.</p><p>Georg began to skim his fingertips up the back of her thigh.</p><p>“You imagined I wouldn’t think to find you...” </p><p>He slowly caressed the pads upwards, touch gliding towards her glistening centre.</p><p>"That I wouldn't know <em>where</em> to find you..."</p><p>Maria moaned in frustration, face burning against the brick as he gruffly tore at her undergarments. </p><p>“I will always know...” the Captain hushed into her cheek, an offer as much as a promise.</p><p>Maria’s grip tightened around the warm, thick vines that crawled up the walls.</p><p>Filthy, shameful images of what he might now do to her filled her mind.</p><p>Her pussy was already swollen- already so needy and unknowingly desperate for his hard, thick cock. </p><p>“‘<em>Do as I say and not as I do’ </em>- is that it?” Maria replied fiercely, her sparring like fuel to her Captain.</p><p>As she heard him hum his commanding little laugh, Maria’s back arched for him.</p><p>His power over her was absolute - and she enjoyed it deeply.</p><p>Arousal washed over shame. Her heart begin to rip itself in two. And tears of frustration had started to prickle. </p><p>“Something like that...” the Captain murmured into her neck as his hand stroked the warm curve of her naked ass. His fingertips flirted with the slick valley of her slit. </p><p>“Oh... I’m sure that suits you perfectly,” Maria said bitterly, pain and angry torment spilling everywhere.</p><p>Georg gruffly spun her around to face him. He held her by the arms, searching her face with a frown. This tone of hers was… new. There was silence. Stillness.</p><p>“<em>Such anger</em>, Fräulein...” he teased, but he recognised something had altered between them. </p><p>Her face was coloured by hurt, frustration, confusion: sentiments he’d never wanted to see. And there was distrust in her eyes - they burned. </p><p>In a moment Georg thought of Elsa, and her careful giggles, and then he thought of the children. He thought of the nightly intimacies he and Maria had shared, and of their daily distance, false and formal. He thought of how vulnerable she had been for him, and how naked he’d felt before her. He thought of the trust and pleasure and courage and truth he’d experienced --- and mostly, how he saw none of it reflected in Maria’s face. </p><p>Georg knew then, despite everything, Maria didn’t apprehend all like he’d assumed. </p><p>Perhaps, all this time, he’d been dancing alone in the dark... </p><p>It was then Maria went to leave him. Gently, Georg stopped her.</p><p>“Fräulein Maria,” he began, suddenly serious. He momentarily placed his knuckles under her chin, trying to catch her eye. “Look at me, please.” It was a gentle command. Patient.</p><p>The game in him had fallen away. Now he stood before her earnest and true.</p><p>Perhaps he should tell her; explain the cathedrals she had built inside him… he hardly knew where to begin. </p><p>Reluctantly, Maria met his gaze. </p><p>“You don’t understand. Do you?” Georg frowned, speaking as much to himself as to her. His eyes searched her softly, but to Maria his gaze felt full of derision. </p><p>Georg watched pride swell up about her like a furious mask. </p><p>“Me?” She countered thickly. “I understand nothing.” </p><p>Under the cold glare of his governess something in Georg’s chest grew pained and small.</p><p>He thought she’d come to know him, but instead she chose to bask in raw assumption- to look at him through a glaze of wilful misrepresentation.</p><p><em>Did she think him some kind of </em>rake<em>? Something who would exploit and debase her for folly? </em></p><p>Despite the confusion, Georg remained tender.</p><p>“Oh, I see....” he hushed, absentmindedly stroking her cheek. “You understand <em> everything…</em>” </p><p>Maria's eyes burned into him, watching while his gaze traced the bitter line of her mouth.</p><p>He stepped away and slipped his hands into his pockets.</p><p>For a moment he watched her, staring him down sternly as she breathed her anger out into the dark.</p><p>He felt vexation, frustration, sadness, resentment, betrayal - pain. And something else. <em>Anger</em>. Contagious and protective. </p><p>And so, without another word he left her as he found her: alone amongst the ivy, heady and furious with nothing but the dewy flora to keep her company.</p><p>Finally, once his steps sank into silence and she was finally alone, Maria covered her face and began to cry.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Forgive me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Image cred: dcbicki</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p>Vulnerability. That was the cause. </p><p>Confusion, humiliation, conflict - all cruel sentiments had seemed to gather up at once, festering beneath her sternum in a dark swell of sadness.</p><p>Even so, the regret was bitter.    </p><p>When Maria watched Georg with Elsa - when she <em> compared </em> herself to Elsa - it was easy to forget the significance of what she and the Captain had shared. </p><p>Their tender touches; his care and his discretion: all that beauty had become overgrown by the cold, brutal sense of being nothing to him. Of being used as his toy or laughed at for her ignorance... </p><p>And then there was her own compliance. </p><p>
  <em> Had she not been the one to start all of this?  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> To bend his discipline to her own will?  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Didn’t she ask to be treated as she was?  </em>
</p><p>As the dust of their conflict settled, Maria was full of shame - and so terribly alone (Maria had always, at the heart of it, felt alone).</p><p>The Captain would not look at her. Not like before when it was loaded and delicious, his warm, knowing eyes smiling even when they burned with fury.</p><p>Or in those times when he’d praised her creativity and work with the children, that blue gaze lingering pointedly while he stood beside her longer and longer as the weeks rumbled on. </p><p>Since the night in the garden he was curt and courteous. All was as it had been on that first meeting - <em> that ridiculous whistle </em> - oddly formal and restrained. Typically polite. Like none of it had ever happened.</p><p>Perhaps that was for the best.</p><p>Holding his gaze was too much. That glorious, rumbling warmth shuddering deep inside her. Maria could hardly stand it, igniting her to flame. </p><p>She knew she’d hurt him.</p><p>Underneath it all Georg always spoke to her as an equal - a kind of <em> partner.</em></p><p>He had only ever met her curiosity with patience. He’d been gentle in the ways that mattered most and had never threatened to shame her for her stubborn, foolish heart, nor force her to be anything more than she was.</p><p>He’d given her a gift.</p><p>He’d taught her sensuality and brought her to the edge of blissful womanhood.</p><p>And he’d revealed as much of himself to her as she had him. </p><p>Now only memory remained, half-finished and destined to follow her into her vows like a ghost, never to be embraced... </p><p>
  <em> I’m far too outspoken. It’s one of my worst faults.  </em>
</p><p>Why must she be this way?</p>
<hr/><p>This wasn’t what he intended. None of it was. </p><p>Yes, he was attracted to the girl. Almost instantly. He could not pretend otherwise. Her honest, smart eyes; that bright, self-respecting spirit; the natural joy of her feminine presence…</p><p>It had all been so unexpected. </p><p>But she was young.</p><p>Far more so than he.</p><p>And she was innocent in all the ways he wasn’t.</p><p>Unlived. Unbroken. <em> Untouched</em>. </p><p>Georg had forgotten himself. Been entirely obliterated and hardly even noticed. The glimmering fever. Her sublime submission<em>. </em> Feeling that trust and honesty- so naked and open together - was unlike anything else. So debauched and intimate. The truth of it.</p><p>But what was the cost?</p><p>Georg remembered how Elsa slept upstairs while he lovingly worked his fingers over Maria’s blushing clit; how he’d <em> encouraged </em> her moans and entreaties while her slick folds trembled at the sound of his voice. </p><p>He felt a blunt pang as he recalled the hurt in Maria’s eyes whenever he flirted with the Baroness, struggling to hold their diverging stories in the palms of his hands.</p><p>It was so wrong of him. His abuse of power; the Reverend Mother’s trust; the Abbey’s awaiting vows.</p><p>And then there was Maria herself. He blushed to think of her unschooled, nubile body, once destined to remain unravaged by a man but now tainted by his loving touch.</p><p>
  <em> At least her heart remained unscathed... </em>
</p><p>In Maria, Georg has met his counterpoint: someone with whom his passion, sensuality and most secret self could be embraced, desire booming wild as thunder.</p><p>Yet it was more than that.</p><p>She had changed him. She challenged him. She accepted him yet let him get away with nothing.</p><p>She saw him.</p><p>
  <em> Or did she...? </em>
</p><p>For there were doubts. </p><p>How could someone as inexperienced as Maria truly understand what it was of himself he was sharing? </p><p>Besides, he’d tripped over his adoration, doing everything untidily and out of order.</p><p>
  <em> Some courtship indeed.  </em>
</p><p>Georg had finally found himself, but it was in the wrong woman.</p><p>Their words could not be unspoken.</p><p>The nights could not be reclaimed.</p><p>He’d made a mess of them both, and while the feel of her trembling beneath him would linger, unfinished and forever sublime, losing her - ending it once and for all - was a pain he was prepared to endure. </p><p>He’d lost a partner once. He was sure he could manage again. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Let me say this</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Image cred: fuckyeahthesoundofmusic</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p>Georg found her in the library.</p><p>She was on the floor with a needle and thread, sitting in the breeze of an open window.</p><p>Her legs were gathered to the side, slim calves appearing from the folds of her skirts, which splayed out like petals beneath her. </p><p>Maria looked up, startled by the sound of the door closing behind him. Lamps illuminated the shelves, casting her in a warm net of golden light. </p><p>He was wearing the grey suit. Green trim. Tanned skin. Those immaculate hands. The athletic line of his body in motion. </p><p>“Don’t get up,” Georg signalled as Maria placed her embroidery beside her and went to rise. </p><p>She folded her hands in her lap, surprised but not unhappy to see him.</p><p>He was watching her, fingers wiggling at his sides as they often did when he had something on his mind. </p><p>He seemed nervous.</p><p>But so did she. </p><p>The last time they were alone he had her pinned to a wall, warm mouth pressed to her cheek asked he pushed apart her thighs.</p><p><em> He was so strong and tender</em>.</p><p>Maria’s stomach dropped. </p><p>Georg stopped in front of her, glancing at her work as he placed his hands in his pockets. </p><p>“I’ve interrupted you,” he graciously began. </p><p>“That’s alright,” Maria answered politely.</p><p>“What are you working on?” He craned his neck to look. </p><p>Maria brushed the material with her fingers. “A sash,” she replied, glancing down fondly at the peach-coloured strip of silk. “It’s for the party.”</p><p>“Ah…” Georg nodded with a social smile. It didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Not really my colour, is it?”</p><p>Maria let out an earnest laugh, immediately charmed and grateful for the break in tension.</p><p>“No, indeed,” she beamed softly. “Although I learned long ago not to judge a book by its cover.”</p><p>“Ah...” Georg chuckled, raising his chin conspiratorially. “Well then, perhaps I am mistaken,” he retorted, his brows lifting in playful amusement.</p><p>The pair watched each other for a moment, lost in their looks.</p><p>Their pleasantries dwindled into meaningful silence, a shared truth unfurling between them. </p><p>This was it. </p><p>Georg pulled his hands from his pockets and took a step closer. </p><p>“Maria,” he began. The Captain used her name often now, when they were alone. </p><p>She waited. He seemed to be working hard to find the words - so unlike him.</p><p>A gentle frown. </p><p>“I know you’ve chosen a...<em> different path.</em>..” </p><p>Maria felt herself flush. She remembered the Sisters’ doubt about her suitability for a life at the Abbey. If she was honest, she’d felt it wavering herself for years. But it was all decided.</p><p>Wasn’t it? </p><p>“But you know, I think...” Georg continued with care, “that the things we’ve shared…” he let out a stilted exhale and glanced around the room. He didn’t know how to say this. <em> Were usually shared between lovers? Between husband and wife? </em>His heart was beating faster than he liked.</p><p>Maria watched the Captain carefully, trying to gauge his meaning. His face was soft and thoughtful- if perhaps a little remote. </p><p>“This wasn’t what you asked for,” he surrendered, brow knitting as he finally looked at her. </p><p>There was a pause. Maria offered a small frown of confusion - and defiance. </p><p>“But it was,” she steadily replied. She sat up on her knees, holding his gaze with softness- and power.</p><p>“No,” Georg countered, stepping nearer.</p><p>They were close. He wanted to take her hands. Press them to his lips.  </p><p>
  <em> Make this easier for me.  </em>
</p><p>Georg had an innate ability to communicate without words. Small gestures; mercurial expressions. Tonight, Maria saw shame in him. She knew the feeling too well to miss it.</p><p>“<em>Georg… </em>” she began.</p><p><em> “</em><em><span class="u">Don’t</span>-- </em> <em> ” </em> he interrupted. He didn’t need to finish the thought. <em> Don’t call me that</em>. </p><p>Maria’s cheeks flushed scarlet. She sat back in her heels, somewhat embarrassed by the admonishment. </p><p>In truth, Georg couldn’t bear the intimacy of it. The soft lilt of his name on her lips. The strange impropriety. It was too intimate - too savage on his battered heart.</p><p>Better for him to hide in the title; the game; the glittering armour. To exist before her as merely man, so unguarded and wanting and true - no. That was too much to bear.</p><p>
  <em> This has to stop.  </em>
</p><p>“I believe matters between us have gone too far, Fräulein,” Georg reported. “<em>I </em>have taken them too far.” </p><p>While Maria gazed up at the Captain, a little frown puckering her eyebrows, guilt and self-disgust wriggled inside him.</p><p>She had trusted him to stay grounded- to keep them both safe.</p><p>And yet the sweet slick of her womanhood still lingered on his tongue. He’d steered them into a storm without a compass and now, he feared, they were lost.</p><p>He’d taken so much. Dared too greatly. </p><p>“I apologise,” Georg concluded chivalrously. His formality might have been comical if it wasn’t so wrought with tension.</p><p>Maria’s heart quickened. </p><p>She considered the beautiful man looming in conflict above her. </p><p>Before they’d met, part of her had lain unknowingly dormant. Around the Captain it blossomed full magical, as if all these years her body had been an instrument mute in its true music. It was the Captain who understood its melody: it was the Captain who could coax those angelic notes from her being.</p><p>
  <em> Surely, there was no evil in that? </em>
</p><p>
  <em>In him? </em>
</p><p>Maria held the Captain’s gaze. She inhaled the masculine scent of him, eyelids fluttering involuntarily at his proximity. </p><p>Then, in a soft steady voice, the truth escaped her. </p><p><em> “</em>I want more…” </p><p>Silence fizzled.</p><p>Georg sighed headily, his throat dry and tight. At his side, his hands momentarily clenched, ignited by her admission. </p><p>
  <em> Don’t make this harder for me.  </em>
</p><p>He’d tried to close his heart - to cool his carnal passions - but he hadn’t expected this. To be called back to her. </p><p>The air grew thick. </p><p>“Maria…” Georg croaked, his head tilting in a warning. </p><p>Maria didn’t want him to leave her like this - half-written and alone.</p><p>She didn’t want to carry the image of a warm man cooled by her stubborn pride.</p><p>She wanted more of him. All he could give. To offer him all that she was.</p><p>Her whole life had been lived in service. But this - it burned her whole being: a calling. </p><p>
  <em> Let me serve.  </em>
</p><p>“Please...” she pressed, praying up to him from her knees. </p><p>
  <em> Let me serve you.  </em>
</p><p><em> “</em>Please<em>… sir.” </em></p><p>Georg’s jaw tensed. Maria’s purity made her wicked: a perfect tease. And she still had no true idea of the power she held over him.</p><p>
  <em> Those pretty eyes pleading for pleasure.... </em>
</p><p>“Don’t...” he cautioned again, eyebrows rising in censure as she goaded him on.</p><p>His blood had begun to surge. He was trying to do right by her; save her from himself and their delicious wickedness. It came to them so easily. </p><p>Maria looked up at her master with her innocent, hooded gaze. </p><p>
  <em> Did he feel as good as she did?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Why did it feel so pleasing to act this way?</em>
</p><p>It felt… <em> powerful</em>. </p><p>“I trust you...” she confided as she carefully began to run her palms up the Captain’s toned thighs. </p><p>Georg hissed in surprised pleasure. He took her chin in his hand, looking down at her with a dark, rich glare. </p><p>She’d never dared to touch him before. </p><p>Maria obeyed his silent command to stop, but kept her hands in place.</p><p>It was dizzying to finally touch him. There was a throbbing between her thighs - sex so swollen already - entirely intoxicated by the long-awaited contact. She could feel the muscularity beneath her fingertips. His masculine cologne; the smell of his skin; the tight heat of his lithe, vigorous frame.. she could scarcely breath.</p><p>The first and only man she’d ever touched. </p><p>“Fräulein Maria…” That stern, musical tone had returned, hardening Georg’s voice and filling her body with dangerous heat. His dark eyes glinted intensely. </p><p>Still holding her jaw tight, Georg watched as Maria carefully turned her face into his hand. Eyes fixed on his, taking her time, she placed a slow, adoring kiss into his skin. It was perfect, empowered submission.</p><p>A small smile twinged at the corner of Georg’s mouth and Maria’s lashes flickered as he stroked her cheek with his thumb in quiet praise. </p><p>
  <em> My bad, sweet girl... </em>
</p><p>“Hmnn...” he purred meaningfully, taking her in. Her dilating pupils; her palms still pressed in prayer against the curve of his thighs; her needy little mouth, half open - so warm. </p><p>In the half-light he towered over her, chin lifted in power as he watched her play him so beautifully. </p><p>
  <em> This wasn’t supposed to happen.  </em>
</p><p>Georg wanted to play too. </p><p>A luscious silence mewled between them; then- </p><p>“Does it ache, Fräulein?” Georg patronised in soft tones. </p><p>He released her jaw to carefully brush her hair from her forehead.</p><p>
  <em> All the time in the world. </em>
</p><p>“Yes, Captain,” Maria whispered. </p><p>His easy dominance oozed through her body like a fever. </p><p>Georg moved slow, running the back of his fingers along her cheek, toying. </p><p>“For me?”</p><p>Maria's eyes slipped closed. </p><p>Georg tilted her chin up to him, the touch tantalisingly gentle on her skin. He squeezed hard, telling her what he expected of her. </p><p><em> Look at me when I speak to you</em>. </p><p>Maria obeyed. And Georg loved to watch.  </p><p>“Have you been practicing, Fräulein?” He ran his thumb over her bottom lip. “Just as I taught you?” </p><p>Arousal bucked as they both recalled their lesson in the study. </p><p>Maria thought of shy strokes against her sex as she’d laid in bed and half-heartedly tried to emulate his touch. She’d burned in vain, the memory of his strong, clever fingers only adding to her fervour, pleasure writhing like an untended flame.</p><p>Maria blushed guiltily and let out a little nod. “Yes, sir…” </p><p>She wondered if the Captain did the same to himself, deft fingers teasing as he groaned alone into the night. </p><p><em> What was it </em> <em> he </em> <em> imagined? </em> </p><p>Her flush deepened. </p><p>Georg missed none of this.</p><p>“You think pleasure shameful...” </p><p>He lowered his hand to his side, frowning gently, voice kind.</p><p>He was not trying to convince her, nor impress a self-serving ideology. He needed to alleviate her pain. Besides, it was a belief he assumed they shared. </p><p>“Surely, you of all people know that God lives in all things?” </p><p>He waited as Maria considered the his words. Her eyes glinted in the sentiment. </p><p>Yes... <em> Oh yes</em>.</p><p>The wildflowers and the birds...</p><p>The hills and the rain...</p><p>The smiles between new friends and the art of old masters.</p><p><em> That </em> was where Maria felt the loving power of God: <em> that </em> was how she heard His song. </p><p>In her truest heart Maria knew this was why she struggled at the Abbey. The rules, the remoteness, the pious detachment from the abundance of life - it all seems at odds with the wild joy of creation.</p><p>Now, gazing up at this handsome, powerful man - feeling his virile sensuality pooled about her like water - Maria knew he was articulating her unspoken truth. Why shame buffeted her shores but never seemed to make land.</p><p>Her heartbeat quickened.</p><p>Admiration, affection and arousal became twisted at their roots, Maria’s soul seeming to bind itself to the Captain’s as it poured up towards him as if in prayer.</p><p>It overwhelmed her.</p><p>“If you were something other than a pretty little postulant…” Georg continued, unable to look away from the intoxicating sheen of Maria’s punch-drunk eyes. </p><p>Her warm fingertips still lingered just below his groin. <em> Fuck. </em> He hadn’t been touched in so long...</p><p>“If we...” The thoughts were becoming messy now, restraint dissolving. </p><p>
  <em> The girl on her knees, hanging on his every word.   </em>
</p><p>“If I was your -” </p><p>
  <em> The girl who wouldn’t move without her master’s permission. So good for him... So obedient.  </em>
</p><p>“Would my touch not be holy?”</p><p>The floor was hard and unforgiving. The servile pain of it only deepened the slick, swollen glow of Maria’s sex.</p><p>“Yes, sir,” she swallowed, gazing naively through her lashes. </p><p>
  <em> Exactly how wet for me are you…? </em>
</p><p>Maria's fingers flexed desperately against the Captain’s thighs. </p><p>He sucked in a needy breath, carefully taking hold of her throat as he tried to control himself - and her. </p><p>It was a first glimmer of his shared pleasure.</p><p>Maria wanted more. </p><p>“And…” Georg hushed, eyebrows lifting, “would your touch not also be in service of something higher?”  </p><p>Maria held the Captain’s gaze while she gently ran her palms inwards, stroking at his inner thighs.</p><p>He inhaled deeply, her touch building inside him as a storm. </p><p>Maria felt dizzied by the tight curve of his legs, so warm and firm.</p><p>He lightly squeezed her throat - feeling a moan of delight vibrate against his fingers</p><p>He was right. This was this holy. </p><p>“And how would I serve you?” Maria asked, drawing her palms around to the taut line at the backs of his legs. </p><p>Georg cupped her chin, not watching to miss a flicker of her sweet green eyes. “Maria…”</p><p><em> Now who’s begging</em>. </p><p>Oh, how she loved that voice. The little threat; the broody power.</p><p>His gaze had darkened further, face hard and stormy like when they fought. </p><p>Maria dipped her chin and let her tongue slip against the tip of Georg’s thumb. He hummed in gratification, watching intently as he brushed the pad against her bottom lip, snagging it lightly as he eyed her silken tongue. Maria smiled, taking it into her mouth and suckling sweetly while she looked up at him.</p><p>Georg felt jealous that such a mouth should be destined for a life of prayer alone. </p><p>“Bad girl…” he soothed as he ran his now slick thumb over her bottom lip, making it rosy and wet. </p><p>“Teach me,” Maria asked, pulling on the Captain’s thighs to bring herself closer.</p><p>
  <em> Stay with me. </em>
</p><p>She needed to give into this feeling. To explore herself through him. </p><p>Waves of arousal crashed within Georg.</p><p>He had been trying to save her. To put an end to this divine madness. And now she was unknowingly begging him to defile her. </p><p>Georg slipped his fingers into Maria’s hair, revelling in the corrupt little moan that escaped her mouth.</p><p>He discerned the smallest of smiles dance across her lips as he pulled at the golden strands, forcing her head back.</p><p>
  <em> This is what you want.  </em>
</p><p>“Do you like that?”</p><p>“<em>Mmhm... </em>”</p><p>“It does not hurt?”</p><p>“It does. But I like it.”</p><p>“The pain?”</p><p>“And the pleasure”</p><p>
  <em> My darling… </em>
</p><p>Georg stepper even closer, near enough now to feel the heat of her quick, hot breath against his manhood. </p><p>“Did God not make you?” he commanded, voice hard and lovely as he raised his eyebrows in knowing expectation. </p><p>Maria felt all inhibition wash away, soothed by his wisdom.</p><p>“Yes…”</p><p>“As he made me?”</p><p>
  <em> Be good for me.  </em>
</p><p>“Yes...”</p><p>
  <em> I'll be good for you. </em>
</p><p>“You want to know how to please me?”</p><p>Maria’s supple fingers dig into his thighs.</p><p>
  <em> Yes please. Yes, yes please. </em>
</p><p>Georg’s cock was hard and swollen, desperate for her warmth (she was almost close enough to taste him) but he kept her gaze right where he wanted.</p><p>He needed to see her, make her his - and he wanted her to watch him do it.</p><p>Tongue-tied and alive all over, Maria merely nodded in reply, eyes wide and needy. Her mound felt swollen and tight, begging for him to enter. </p><p>
  <em> Please teach me how to please you.  </em>
</p><p>Georg pulled Maria’s head back further, so near now her chin almost touched his stomach. </p><p>“Then feel everything I give you,” Georg instructed, his commanding timbre buzzing through Maria’s body.</p><p>“Take <em> everything…” </em>he deepened his grip on her hair, eye-line trailing to her mouth. </p><p>“<em>Enjoy </em> everything,” he whispered, tilting her face up towards him. </p><p>Maria hummed, pussy spasming with want. She was panting helplessly, shallow breaths coming fast as she eyed the Captain’s mouth in return. Her eyes were shining with tears, full up with ecstasy and softness. </p><p>Yet Maria sensed Georg’s restraint.</p><p>What wasn’t he showing her?</p><p>Although she understood the vagueries of human love -  of the acts undertaken by man and wife - she also recognised she’d never know them.</p><p>This was as far as the two of them would wander. </p><p>Barely able to focus, Maria took Georg’s hands into her own. Skin to skin, the touch felt so beautiful - so simple. She closed her eyes and kissed his knuckles in gratitude, lips caressing one by one as she made her way across the planes of him.</p><p>That was the moment Georg had nothing left to give. Maria had taken all of him. </p><p>Hopeless.</p><p>She glanced up at him, eyes full of a question she couldn’t quite muster.</p><p>“Would you…” she hushed into his hands, brushing her mouth against his honey skin. She was startled by the tenderness in his face. It gave her courage. “What it would be if…” It made her shy. “If I’d chosen a different path?” She lowered his hands to her chest, holding them fondly within her own. <em>How could she say it?</em> “If a man and I... Tell me what it would be if...” Maria struggled, “if <em>you and I</em>…”</p><p>Georg sighed. His eyes were impossibly gentle, moonstruck as he looked deeply into her being. </p><p>He opened his mouth to reply. </p><p>“<em>Georg.</em>..?”</p><p>Elsa. </p><p>Her voice was clear, echoing across the hall from the drawing room.</p><p>Maria and Georg were still, staring at each other half in devotion, half in fright. </p><p>“Georg, darling!” her voice smiled through the walls. “Where <em> on earth </em> are you?”</p><p>“Indeed!” Max charmed in alliance somewhere beside her. “Not very sporting I’d say!” </p><p>Georg’s posture hardened, face growing faraway as he stepped back. </p><p>Their moment had been broken, hearts thrashing now for all the wrong reasons. </p><p>Maria released his hands, clasping her own together as she lowered her gaze to the floor. </p><p>“Forgive me,” he whispered down at her after a moment. </p><p>Maria eyed the ground, her steady breaths the only sound in the room as Georg tried in vain to read her thoughts. </p><p>Finally, she picked up her sewing and rose from her knees. </p><p>Shyness. Cheeks flushed. That polite smile. </p><p>“Fräulein,” he softly urged, placing a knuckle beneath her chin.</p><p>
  <em> Please look at me when I speak to you.  </em>
</p><p>Maria obeyed.</p><p>She smiled and closed her eyes. </p><p>
  <em> Forgiven.  </em>
</p><p>Then, without saying a word Maria withdrew to the garden, leaving Georg alone, burning in the dark.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Let me give this to you</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi friends. Thank you for supporting this story. I'm so glad you're here.<br/>Chapter warnings are in line with tags.<br/>Image credit: currently unknown but special thanks to charlesdances</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p>Georg was in love with Maria. </p><p>That was clear to him now; no longer able to be swallowed down.</p><p>It was a full-hearted, profound kind of love, tugging at the whole of him, ready to burst like song. </p><p>Surprising, when he had written himself quite off... </p><p>Still, Georg had resigned himself to its unrequited nature. Maria was attracted to him. He knew this. But he understood her desire to be nothing but the groaning flurry of confused maidenhood. </p><p>Besides, she had promised herself to the church. That, at least, was an engagement that could not be broken. </p><p>And Elsa.</p><p>Idyllic, refined Elsa.</p><p>He’d felt them inching towards the inevitable all year. He hadn’t fought it. Indeed, the notion had been quite pleasurable in a mature, sturdy kind of way. A logical progression. The paper-match. </p><p>But logic had no home in him now. </p><p>This attachment to Maria, <em> his impossible, gentle siren: </em>it was hopeless. Long over before it even began.</p><p>It was a heady, swirling nonsense, and one a man his age should know better than to indulge in. </p><p>He loved her. Truly and simply. And she was destined to slip his hands. </p><p>Maria would forget him, time spent and spirit stained as she prayed to wash him away.</p><p>Perhaps that’s why he did what he did. </p><p>To halt the inevitable - unite the impossible - even for a moment. </p><p>Georg had the means to gift her almost anything. But he had chosen this. The very thing she would never have - a truth they could never share.</p><p>It was Thursday evening. Two days until the grand party.</p><p>His guests would come, shimmering in their finery, and with them their expectation - the hum of a proposal following them out the door like a bridal train.</p><p>Soon after she would be gone. And part of him would dissolve in her wake.</p><p><em> Better make it count, Georg</em>. <em> Summer is nearly over. </em></p><p>____</p><p>She liked this time of night, when the air glowed teal and cool. </p><p>Georg knew exactly where she’d be.</p><p>As the roses sighed, looming bright and large, he was overcome with a swell of gratitude for the richness of his life. He wandered languidly, meandering across the verandah while a glass chilled in his hand. </p><p>Just the two of them tonight, the others to Vienna and their finishing touches for the revelries ahead.</p><p>Staff flitted from room to room, polishing and dusting; breathing life into long uncelebrated pockets of his home.</p><p>The day had been punctuated by the happy sound of his children’s laughter; there was nowhere else to be. </p><p>Georg descended slowly, gaze resting on the creature illuminated by the waxen moon. Tension crept across his chest; nerves delicious and unsettling. </p><p>Finally he sat beside her on the wall, facing the villa while she took in the lake.</p><p>A dizzying lick of felicity dashed up Maria’s spine. Unconsciously, she had been waiting for his company. </p><p>There was an easy silence, unhurried and sweet. Two roses, side by side, sighing quietly into the dark. </p><p>Georg kept his gaze ahead. </p><p>Everything tonight seemed to shimmer, soft and stupefying; the world hushing down in knowing anticipation. </p><p>He hadn’t felt this for half a life. Georg smiled towards a younger self, nostalgic and kind to that foolhardy mirror.</p><p>“What you asked me, the other night...” he started.</p><p>The threat of sex buzzed about them.</p><p>“Yes,” Maria thoughtfully replied. “I should apologise...”</p><p>“Should you, now?” he teased, eyes sparking serious as he admonished her for such impatience. </p><p>
  <em> Wherever you lead me, I will follow.  </em>
</p><p>Maria bit the inside of her cheek and looked back towards the lake. </p><p>Tonight the horizon shivered: two blue palms meeting in mid air - earth and water acutely balanced. </p><p>She rubbed her hands over her arms, skin prickling at the weight of his presence.</p><p>Then, a shock of white against the blue: doves settling down until the dawn. </p><p>She waited.</p><p>“I wanted to be a good teacher to you,” Georg told her. “To show you what it truly meant to… lie with a man.” </p><p>Maria glanced at him. His fine, angular profile was illuminated by the light: pearl from the villa, indigo from the night. </p><p>“I knew what it meant for you to - the significance,” he clarified, leaning in slightly, “so I resolved to be gentle.” </p><p>The Captain looked to her but she turned away, bruising gaze too tender on her skin. She traced the line of the mountains, yet her attention was fixed on his every word.</p><p>“I started slowly,” Georg softly rumbled, focus returning to the glass in his hand. “I could feel how you were feeling. Apprehensive. Shy.” He glanced back, taking in the planes of her: the line of her shoulders, the contour of her neck.</p><p>“Your hands were trembling...” </p><p>His expression was soft and unreadable, the bareness of it almost devastating. </p><p>
  <em> I have to tell you.  </em>
</p><p>“So I soothed you,” he looked away. “Reminded you that you would <em>always</em> be safe with me - whispering reassurances into your skin...”</p><p>Maria’s breath hitched. </p><p>The ice shifted in the Captain’s glass, water melting indistinguishably into the whiskey. </p><p>He inhaled deeply.</p><p>“And then I lowered you down onto our bed, just when the light was still warm,” he glanced at the sky, “where I could see all of you; and you all of me, hear... <em> everything </em>,” his voice brimmed with tenderness, “every breath and groan. Each sigh,” barely above a whisper, “nothing lost...” </p><p>Maria’s eyes prickled; she was scarcely able to breath. </p><p>“And so I was gentle. Patient,” Georg gave a little frown, focus dissolving into the middle distance. “At least<em> ...at first</em>,” he added darkly, tongue menacing as velvet. </p><p>“I wanted to play with you. To test your obedience. I explored all of you... <em> for hours</em>…” he lifted his glass to his mouth, “wanting to take my time as I adored every part of your body,” eyes broody, “watching every flicker of pleasure in your eyes. Across your face...” his lips hovered at the rim. “I breathed in your scent. I teased every inch of your skin; mastering your body with my hands; my mouth…” Georg glanced over a little longer this time, “just <em> learning </em> how you worked.”</p><p>He watched her as he a sip, a beautifully destructive force wanting to lay them both open into softness.</p><p>He was resolved to give as long as she would accept it. </p><p>Maria lowered her hands to grip at the wall - anything to hold onto this moment. She sat stone-still; transfixed by him; body and heart overcome by their lustrous quarries.</p><p>“And then,” Georg softly continued, “I really began to tease you...” - his voice was sitting low in his chest - “just how I knew you liked it.” He turned back to the facade of the villa, the tone of him husky and dangerous - honest and absolute. “I loved feeling you writhe beneath me - so desperate and helpless - my impatient little wildling… Until finally I just <em> grazed </em> my fingers along your inner thighs,” Maria watched his hands flicker with phantom caresses she’d never feel, “slowly slipping higher and higher, controlling every part of you with the lightest touch, your knees splayed open without me having to tell you... so ready - for me - just waiting.”</p><p>Georg closed his eyes, a universe unfurling between his words. “I pressed kisses to your stomach...” he frowned intently, speaking carefully, “your breasts... and your thighs…” he could almost taste her. “I <em>forbade</em> <em>you</em> to move,” he added moodily, blue eyes opening, “just keeping you there... so slow and tantalising, until I knew you couldn’t take any more. So ready for me. Showing me how much you wanted it - pulling at my hair, begging me to give in to you, until finally, <em>finally, </em>I showed you some mercy.”</p><p>Maria’s eyes slipped shut. She wanted to sear every detail into memory. Hold them with her like a prayer. The gift was immeasurable. Too great. Too full. </p><p>Her heart raced impossibly fast. She could barely catch her breath. The Captain’s words seemed to come alive inside her, every touch half-lived on her skin. Her body sang for him. </p><p>Georg watched her openly, treasuring the sight of her: eyes closed, pink lips parted. He wanted to bow at her feet in unbroken worship. Share in the obliteration as his hopes became their bed. </p><p>Somewhere the peal of a silver speckled goose, calling to its mate, echoed across the water. </p><p>“I began to run my tongue along your inner thighs,” he breathed, willing his words to touch her as he could not. “I kept on telling you how good you tasted - <em>how</em> <em>good</em> <em>you were being for me.</em> You begged me not to stop and so I obeyed, kissing you and biting you, mouth trailing higher and higher and higher until I was where you wanted me most - breathing in the scent of you, mouth pressed against your centre.” </p><p>Georg reached to tuck away a lock of her hair, fingertips brushing the high curve of her ear. </p><p>“The little sounds you were making for me...” </p><p>Ungreedy, he pulled his hand away, watching acutely as the expressions danced across her face. </p><p>The words were starting to pour from him now, unbridled and helpless and thick with emotion.</p><p>“Then I kissed you between your thighs. Listening to the newness of you - your pleasure - using my tongue against all of you; loving you; tasting you fully; enjoying the bliss of your beautiful, <em> perfect </em> clit as I watched and teased and enjoyed you in ways you couldn’t have possibly imagined.”</p><p>He eyed her lips as a little groan escaped her. </p><p>“I felt your moans in my mouth,” he echoed. “We’d been waiting so long... and so I gave myself to you completely, filling you with sublime, unending pleasure, on and on and over and over until finally you came, just like I taught you, <em>my good, sweet girl</em>, so hard and perfect into my mouth; all over my hands; down my neck; letting me taste all of you - moaning so prettily for me as I licked at your soft, beautiful pussy, pulling you closer, grinding your hips into my tongue, unable to get enough of you...</p><p>“And you looked..., he sucked in a breath, "<em>angelic</em>. So wild and unguarded, your face rosy as wave after wave of ecstasy just ravished your body.” </p><p>Maria let out a shaky sigh, the images he painted staining her beautiful. </p><p>Warm, heavy tears fell from her lashes, their trail as careful as her Captain’s words. The beauty of what he was giving her. The fullness and the loss.</p><p>This sermon of sensuality would change her forever. </p><p>Georg carefully brushed the saline beads from her cheek, fingers lingering on her skin. </p><p>Maria opened her eyes, watching him watching her in this stolen, fictional moment. </p><p>“But then...” Georg breathed, eyeing Maria’s lip intently as he brushed it with his thumb, “then I couldn’t stop myself.”</p><p>A stormy hue clouded his face. It sent a flurry of pleasure up Maria’s spine. His gaze locked onto hers. The air was balmy and close.</p><p>“Knowing you were so wet and ready for me...” Maria sucked in a shaky breath. “I could hardly withstand it. Couldn’t believe you wanted me as much as I did you - the privilege of it - and when I’d been<em> so full of wanting you</em>…</p><p>“So I pulled you onto my lap,” he looked away again, lost in his thoughts, “- your body was still shaking - and I held you close, letting you feel how ready I was for you; feel all of me pressed up hard against your tight little centre, my cock slipping against your wetness, pleading with me until we couldn’t bear it a moment longer. And finally, I entered you...” The air crystallised, the desire unthinkable. “And we moaned together. Finally complete. A <em> perfect bliss…</em>” Georg whispered to himself, frowning thoughtfully into the night.</p><p>Maria’s tears came fast, trapped forever in his ecstatic chimera. </p><p>“To feel you at last.... Be with you in that way… I -” Georg leant forwards, elbows on his thighs. His hair ruffled lightly in the breeze. “You were holding onto me hard; you were- ” he lifted his fingers to his shoulder, “whimpering into my neck as I guided your hips on mine and... held you… filling you up with all of me - so tight around my cock, feeling so impossibly good. To finally be inside you, like the most natural thing in the world...” he breathed, chancing a look into her glistening eyes, “so warm, and soft, and tight, just as I imagined you'd be...” his eyes flickered to her throat. “I kissed your neck. Your nipples. Lavishing them with my tongue as I started to guide your hips on mine. I watched you so carefully,” he gently impressed, with a small frown. Maria couldn’t breath. “Didn’t want to miss a second of you. Watching you watching me as I finally took what was mine. Grinding myself into you, hearing your little gasps of pleasure; teaching you how to take me; moaning into my mouth...” </p><p>Georg suddenly looked away, struck with a seriousness that knocked through him like a fist. </p><p>“But then I couldn’t be gentle anymore. Even though I knew you needed it -” his voice was harder now - deeper - eyes downcast and unreadable. “That I was too big for you. How I filled you to the hilt. But I knew how much you wanted it. That you’d take whatever I gave you. That you’d want me to...” Georg tightened his grip on his glass, hair spilling over his forehead. He looked over his shoulder to met her gaze, defiantly hopeless.</p><p>“And so I truly began to fuck you. Hard, and deep, and slow. Unforgiving. Claiming you in ways you couldn’t understand. Biting at your nipples; your neck; our fingers digging into one another, bodies glistening, slipping and beautifully rough; your shameless little moans like music; feeling so good as I told you again and again how perfect you felt, how perfect it was to finally have you - groaning into me - taking all of me - being <em>so good for me -</em> as I took you possessively, knowing you were made for only me, making you look into my eyes while I fucked you, over and over and over…” <em>As</em> <em>long as we both shall live.</em></p><p>Georg came to an abrupt stop, hitting a wall of unfathomable emotion. </p><p>He turned his face into the shadow of the orchard, unwilling to be seen as he was. </p><p>He swallowed, biting down on his inner lip. He ran his fingers through his hair.</p><p>The scent of the roses would carry this moment forever. </p><p>Maria shivered violently, breathing sharp and shallow as her limbs twitched from their theatre. </p><p>The desire was unbearable. </p><p>Tears flowed thickly down her cheeks, soul illuminated by the intensity of the moment.</p><p>
  <em> Her perfect education... </em>
</p><p>Georg turned towards her; eyes ladened with intent; face hard but passionate. </p><p><em> “That </em> is what it means to be made love to <em> ,” </em> he whispered meaningfully. Maria watched his mouth. <em> “That </em> is what you would have had. What you deserve - What I could never <em> -”  </em></p><p>He looked back at the house, eyes fixed on an empty future. </p><p>
  <em> Stay with me.  </em>
</p><p>Maria brushed her cheeks with the back of her hands. She looked to the lake, suddenly frightening and impossibly deep.</p><p>They sat for a small while, both full of thought. </p><p>“I wanted you to know,” Georg quietly offered, now looking down to his near-empty glass, “just once...” he added, lifting it to his lips.</p><p>Maria reached for his hand, resting on his knee. She ran her fingertips over the back, wanting desperately for him to look at her again. To be with her in this moment. Just a little longer.</p><p>Georg lowered the tumbler, glancing at the ground and unable to comply.</p><p>She half-entwined her fingers into his, gasping softly as he brushed back, grazing, soft.</p><p>Then, just as she knew he would, Georg let go and stood to leave. </p><p>He thought to glance back - take her in one more time - but he couldn’t bear it. </p><p>Two days until the grand party. Then soon, she would be gone. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Bring me to my senses</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p>The following morning, and in her infinite wisdom, Fortune conspired to keep them apart.</p><p>With duties and commitments flooding their agendas, they moved in contrasting directions, each catching only glimmers of the other. </p><p>Still, touches lingered from skin to skin, ideas unfinished but somehow final.</p><p>Both parties felt their tongues cut short, neither hearing nor saying what they’d hoped to have been expressed. </p><p>Yet this unfulfillment was of their own making, seeds long sown and with no chance of cessation.</p><p>Their secret oaths and shadow-lives: those neat, past threads, once binding now pulled apart, paths already forged and propelling them forward.</p><p>But the fates were wicked; mischievous hands pushing pawns closer to inevitable union. </p><p>August was waning. And the days were getting hot.</p>
<hr/><p>There was nothing for Maria to do but bury his words in the earth of her. </p><p>The Captain’s narrative had been too potent - <em>too great</em> - for her to truly comprehend its meaning. Instead, she suspended it in her memory, pushing down with desperate hands whenever the images threatened to rise up and engulf her. </p><p>But those hidden treasures glinted if only you knew where to look. The patch-pink neck; the over-attentive focus on everything but herself... </p><p>In unwelcome flashes, Maria foresaw herself alone in her abbey cell, while his words - so transcendent and corrupting - entwined around her limbs, both solace and torment in her isolation. </p><p>Too intense;<em> too pleasing</em>, Georg’s voice writhed at the core of her. It was a gift she could not quite unwrap, Pandora quivering at the prospect of its pleasure, and the immeasurable weight of its grief. </p><p>And so she parted it like waves, throwing herself into another day with the children.</p><p>There had been laughter - unbridled, abundant joy - but time had lingered uncomfortably; clothes clawing skin, shade never quite reaching far enough. </p><p>Maria felt tired. Impossibly warm. She could hardly stand the minutes. </p><p>But in this she was not alone. </p><p>The children too were listless in the heat, drained from their anticipation, all questions exhausted. </p><p><em> What would the fine ladies be wearing? </em> <em>Would their father make a speech? </em> <em>Could they not join the guests for dinner if their behaviour was good? </em> <em>Would there be dancing?</em></p><p>Maria met their agitation with grace, firm all-knowing tongue forever softened by her humour. But in truth she knew very little.</p><p>The imminent, eminent guests were a far cry from her usual company. Unlike her little fledglings, for Maria finery was the exception, not the rule, their satin and chandeliers and gloves and silver far beyond her own muted upbringing.  </p><p>While she had learned to hold herself with dignity, Maria had grown in the shadow of her humility. With no titles or fashionable clothing to prop her up when the occasion called, her power lay within. Good health and happiness were her wealth, and the Austrian mountains her rolling estate. </p><p>Besides, when it came to the Baroness’ party, Maria was not technically invited. Her attendance would be functional, not social, with little expected of her in terms of attire or conversation. </p><p>Nobody would be watching her. Nor did she want them to. Instead she would blend into the palette of the villa, as unassuming and unregarded as the tasteful paintings that hung about the walls.</p><p>Georg’s words had shaken her; Maria felt herself begin to tear under their weight. And so, she retreated to the one thing she felt certain of: her place. For these past hours, it had kept her safe, allowing her to hide from the sound of him while it chased her through the seconds.  </p><p>Maria pressed a wrist to her neck. Perspiration pooled at her skin. </p><p>Tired of its gaze, she squinted up at the sun. It sat heavy in the sky, low and full of menace.</p>
<hr/><p>“Freidrich...” Maria signalled, the afternoon growing old. “Leisl...” The eldest von Trapps looked to their governess. “Will you be alright without me? Just for a minute?”</p><p>“Of course,” Leisl soothed, earnest beauty shining through her kindness.</p><p>“Is everything alright, Fräulein Maria?” her brother frowned, ever the young gentleman. </p><p>Maria laughed gently, raising a hand to stop him coming to her rescue. “Yes, Freidrich, I’m alright, thank you. I just need a moment indoors. It’s all together a little too warm, I expect.”</p><p>“We’ll keep an eye on them for you,” he earnestly assured her, belying his boyishness by puffing out his chest. </p><p>Leisl flashed an endeared look at Maria. “What do you say we go for a paddle in the lake?” she called out. Her siblings chirruped happily in reply, kicking off their sandals as they ran towards the water’s edge.</p><p>“Not too far...!” Maria dizzily hailed after them, relieved to see them sit on the steps, content enough with dipping their feet. </p><p>She watched them for a moment, hand shielding her eyes before she retreated into the villa. Once inside, although unsteady on her feet, the shadow proved a balm. Strange patches of black undulated across her vision and she quickly lost her bearings, the dimness odd after hours of hot-white light. She shut her eyes, catching hold of a marble table. </p><p><em> Just a little respite from the heat. </em> <em>Perhaps a splash of water…</em></p><p>“Fräulein, are you quite well?”</p><p>Her eyes burst open. Light grey suit. Carefully-shaven jaw. The petrol-citrus tang of expensive cologne. </p><p>Maria realised he was holding onto her forearm. His grip was strong, keeping her steady. </p><p>“I’m fine, Captain...”</p><p>She tried to free herself from his grasp, but Georg held firm. He raised a hand to her forehead. <em>Too warm. </em></p><p>“Go and lie down,” he told her. “Frau Schmidt will bring you some water.” </p><p>Maria opened her mouth to reply.</p><p>“<em>I'll </em>watch over the children,” Georg anticipated, his voice like touch. “Go,” he added after a moment. </p><p>As she made her way, the Captain’s gaze stuck upon her - searing; then, he disappeared into the light.</p><p>Dazed by this sudden appearance, Maria weaved her way across the hall. Infernal heat fizzed like fever; it was hungry on her skin. With the party approaching, every corner of the house murmured with domestic activity: the glinting of cutlery, the moving of furniture. Maria felt it all in her bones.</p><p>But something else snagged her attention: her likeness - strange - caught in a gilded mirror. She walked up to it, the half-familiar twin framed in gold. Cheeks red and skin aglow, all of her was tinged as the summer made its mark. </p><p>
  <em> I lowered you down onto our bed... </em>
</p><p>Stop.</p><p>Maria stared at the sweeping curve of her eyes; the tiny upward lift of her nose. She pressed her fingers to cheekbones, not quite able to take herself in.</p><p>Is this how he saw her? A trembling creature of pink and amber? </p><p>
  <em> So desperate and helpless… </em>
</p><p>Upon reaching the sanctuary of her room, Maria made her way to the en-suite, closing the door a little more forcibly than she meant to. Her arm burned. </p><p>“<em>Why did you have to touch me?</em>” she whispered, holding onto the basin. </p><p>She stripped herself of her dress, turning the tap and letting the cold water rush forcibly into the sink. The noise of it filled her up, drowning everything else out. Almost...</p><p>
  <em> I began to run my tongue along your inner thighs... </em>
</p><p>She watched the water numbly. Gushing. Soaking everything. Salvation and flood. </p><p>
  <em> Kept on telling you how good you tasted... </em>
</p><p>She wished she’d never asked.</p><p>With careful dabs, Maria cooled herself with a flannel: wringing and stroking; soothing and awakening. Half in a dream, she dampened her face and chest. Her nipples hardened. Her breathing slowed.</p><p>When she finally opened the bathroom door, the curtains had been drawn for her. A carafe of water sat beside a bowl of ice, both carefully covered with a linen cloth. Maria imagined Frau Schmidt placing them down without a fuss - no imposition made, no questions asked. She tried to ignore the subtext; to push the Captain’s care from her room.</p><p>Maria pulled aside the drapes to peer into the garden. Georg now stood in the shade, arms crossed while he leant against a tree. He had removed his jacket, his ice-white shirt radiating in the shadows as he chatted with his children. In the distance they splashed and laughed, delighting in his company. </p><p>Her time here was almost over; her duty near complete. She had prepared her darlings for a new mother and she had reunited them with their father. Soon, the Captain would forget her. But she would not be so lucky.</p><p>Maria closed the window, muffling them all to silence. She needed to be alone. The bed was turned down and the sheets were cool. Gingerly, she lay atop them, untying her simple brassiere and letting it fall to the floor. </p><p>But the sun was inescapable: hot, bright liquid, so deliberate and fine.</p><p>A thin strip of gold shone along her chest, illuminating the places she longed for the most. </p><p>It caressed her stomach and delved deep between her thighs.</p><p>
  <em>Until finally you came… just like I taught you… </em>
</p><p>It kissed at her breasts, nipples softened in the haze.</p><p>
  <em>So hard and perfect, into my mouth…</em>
</p><p>She mumbled with her fever, limbs restless on the sheets. </p><p>
  <em> Making you look into my eyes, while I finally fucked you…</em>
</p><p>Maria groaned in torment, soul lost in the heat. Like this, the hours passed, boundaries blurred by licks of sun. Then, hot and messy, she slipped into a fervoured sleep.</p><p>
  <em>Over and over and over and over....</em>
</p>
<hr/><p>When her eyes finally fluttered open, the house was full of quiet. Behind her, the sun was close to setting. Its long copper shadows reached across the bed, offering, it seemed, to take her secrets with them. </p><p>Disoriented, Maria wondered how long she had lain there - if somehow Georg had heard her sighs.</p><p>She was bound by the sheets -now damp- like rope, and she wriggled pointlessly, whimpering in her frustration.</p><p>Her jaw tensed. She ran her fingers through her hair.</p><p>The fever had shifted: low and rabid and straight down to her sex. She was so full of him, that bright-dark angel; his spectre hovering with a brilliant glower...</p><p>Longing for a remedy, Maria let her fingers trail along her stomach.</p><p>Then, she slowly slid her fingers into her briefs -<em>gasping</em>- the exquisite wetness hard to fathom<em>.</em></p><p>She let out a long and little hum.</p><p>This chaste young woman discovering her pleasure.</p><p>Those silken folds so pink and budding.</p><p>The soft and careful comforting heat: her hips splaying open as she released into lust. </p><p>Maria imagined the glow of Georg’s tongue against her sex. She pictured the mouth she’d never kissed.</p><p>She re-lived the feel of his hard, warm thighs and the forceful grip of his masculine hands.</p><p><em> What would it be to be cradled in his lap? To feel all</em> <em>of him, thick, as he pushed up inside her? That petrol-citrus tang - staining her mouth...</em></p><p>Chasing her pleasure, Maria teased around the top of her clit. She dragged her fingers across the bud and her hips bucked with the agony: so animal and tender, just like her teacher showed her. </p><p><em> What she wouldn’t give for him to play with her now. </em> <em>For it to be his caress in the golden light...</em></p><p>Maria grew slicker with longing. She built the friction against her clit, desperate for his touch while she played and fucked. She imagined his tongue in her fingers' stead; saw her lover lapping soft and wicked and brilliantly good. </p><p>
  <em>The Captain was praising her pussy and gripping her throat... He was fucking her hard, bound tight to her bed... His fingers were bruising, palm smacking rough... </em>
</p><p>Until finally -- with a cry -- violent ecstasy burst forth.</p><p>Maria gasped with the shock; humming and panting, shivering with its power.</p><p>Wave upon wave, she coaxed the pleasure out: this supernova in slow motion - her pelvis electric.</p><p>Back arching, she moaned into the pillow. The gasps full of want, she writhed while it gushed, thinking of his eyes as she fucked and toyed, teasing until she could take nothing more.</p><p>Then at last, in the fading haze, her breathing began to slow.</p><p>She felt naked and spent; so bad for him; and because of him; corrupt and beautiful under his roof. </p><p>She closed her eyes. </p><p>
  <em> Such a good girl…  </em>
</p><p>Her body fizzed. She imagined him next to her: sucking her fingers clean and groaning at the taste of her. </p><p>
  <em> Such a good, sweet girl...</em>
</p><p>She sighed: content.</p><p>Free... </p><p>But then it came. Brutal and swift.</p><p>Pain.</p><p>The unknown colour she'd seen in the Captain’s eyes.</p><p>Because suddenly she understood what only he had seen - always slightly ahead; always understanding what she yet could not.</p><p>That theirs was a truth to have, but never to hold.</p><p>He had handed her knowledge - the round, red agony of it - but its taste had robbed her of her ignorance... home, they say, to a different kind of bliss.  </p><p>Maria had asked to be unlocked. But her future was an empty room.</p><p>It was a life of maidenhood, lived in service. It was an abbey cell; all dressed in black; and married to something other than Georg von Trapp...</p><p>With the bitter curse of bliss still sharp on her tongue, Maria closed her eyes and began to cry. </p><p>August was waning.</p><p>And soon she would be gone.</p>
<hr/><p>In light of it all, Maria took her time to bathe and redress. </p><p>When at last she slipped from her quarters to return to the children, the clinking of cutlery ascended to meet her. She frowned. <em>Early</em>, she thought, <em>for them to be dining</em>... </p><p>Maria made her way to them, padding softly along the balcony and keen for their laughter.</p><p>But immediately she heard him, walking through the hall. His gait was unmistakable and Maria’s heart skipped.</p><p>She slowed, angling her head to watch unnoticed through the balustrades. He was still in his day suit, not yet changed for supper.</p><p>Then, a flash of lilac meeting with the grey. </p><p>Marta...</p><p>“Father!” She squealed, running full pelt into Georg’s legs.</p><p>“<em>Uff</em>…” he responded, catching her weight easily and placing a hand on her braided head. Maria smiled from her shadows, endeared by the private diorama. “And what,” Georg began, heaving Marta up into his arms, “do you want? Hmm?” he teased, smiling as she beamed in reply. </p><p>The Captain’s softness was showing more every day. He wore it proudly on his breast, love shining brighter than any ribboned commendation ever could. As Maria looked down on them, her heart cracked open to something new and undecipherable. It was a strange sensation: soft and feminine - a gentle yearning for she knew not what. </p><p>Sat on his hip, Marta cupped her hand around her father’s ear and began to whisper conspiratorially. “Ahh…” Georg replied with paternal grace. “<em>Is that so</em>?” </p><p>Suddenly he looked up at Maria, catching her in the half-light. Her breath hitched as his gaze locked with hers. There again that unfamiliar emotion, deepening the longer he held his daughter. </p><p>“I see…” Georg steadily played along, still watching Maria up on the landing. “<em>Well</em>,” he chimed after a moment, looking back at his almost-youngest. “If it’s a secret, you probably shouldn’t tell me any more…” He tilted back his head to take her in. “Hm?”</p><p>Marta clumsily bit her lower lip and giggled, grabbing a small fistfull of her dad’s neat suit, cheeks brightening further. Georg smiled at his daughter’s joy, the two of them regarding each other with fondness, alone in their moment.</p><p>The Captain put her back down. “Run along, Marta,” he gently instructed, placing a hand on her head. She seemed resistant. “I’ll be along in a minute,” he added, dipping his chin for emphasis.</p><p>Smiling, Marta did as her father bade her, returning to her brothers and sisters as they finished their meal.</p><p>Georg waited for a moment before he glanced to the balcony, but already Maria was gone. He inhaled and stroked his brow.</p><p>Looking to the floor, he tried to process the past twenty four hours: <em>last night by the lake, her fever from the heat...</em></p><p>But quickly she was behind him, standing angelic in her stripes of orange and rose. Georg turned to face her, startled by the joy she evoked: the sheer relief. Despite it all, he smiled. And it knocked the breath from her.</p><p>“Fräulein,” he nodded almost awkwardly, cheeks deepening a little as she approached. “Feeling better, I trust?”</p><p>That arch tone could hide so much.</p><p>“Much better. Thank you Captain.”</p><p>“You’re sure-”</p><p>“Really, it was nothing,” she assuaged him. <em>Was she blushing?</em> “I trust I wasn’t missed too much…”</p><p>“Far more than I would be, I assure you,” he retorted, unconsciously looking over his shoulder while he scratched at his neck.</p><p>Maria laughed softly and clasped her hands at her front. She looked to her feet, suddenly shy.</p><p>They were getting very good at this: <em>pretending</em>. They’d learned to ignore; to divert the obvious. But they also stood a little too close - eyes lingering longer than they should.</p><p>“You’re quite certain...” Georg pressed, moving nearer. "You’re alright," his eyebrows softened with query. </p><p>There was a pause. Ladened with tension. The clinking of silverware. Murmurs.</p><p>Joy.</p><p>“Yes, Captain…” Maria breathed, suddenly naked and writhing, all pleasure feeling visible. </p><p>Georg merely nodded. The smile had faded but the heat remained. </p><p>“I’d like to thank you…” Maria stiltedly began, the tension untenable. “For sending the ice-,” but the words dissolved on her tongue. Georg had lifted his hand to her cheek and was brushing an eyelash with the tips of his fingers.</p><p>Frowning, his gaze lingered on her skin - how it glowed from the sun - and Maria looked up at him, her lips lightly parted while she burned for his attention.</p><p>Georg met her eye, hardly holding the gaze before he caught himself. Carefully, he lowered his arm to his side.</p><p>The air grew thick and serious.</p><p>“Well...” his smile was tight. He moved aside to let her pass, arm extended with his usual kind of courtesy.</p><p>
  <em>The scent of her... so clean and floral- and underneath the salt of her skin. </em>
</p><p>They nodded to each other as she made her way into the dining room. </p><p>
  <em>I kept on telling you how good you tasted...</em>
</p><p>Stop.</p><p>Georg glanced through the doors and out to the horizon.</p><p>Thunder rumbled, far away. A blue-grey storm was fast approaching.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hi reader. A note from me: we're now roughly at the three-quarters mark. I for one need a good long nap after that one, but if you're still with me, I'd be the happiest wee bug if you could drop me a kudos to let me know and say hi (hi)<br/>I'm so glad you're here x</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Take me down with you</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is a companion piece to the previous chapter. Because what are Georg and Maria if not perfect, writhing opposites of the same gorgeous soul? Next update coming soon. Editing as we speak and excited to share :)<br/>Lastly, I'd like to dedicate this chapter to Geeky Red, with my thanks, for keeping the embers burning, and in turn ensuring this story reaches its finish line. My appreciation for the continued inspiration and support.<br/>T/W: water-based imagery and the kind of language we've all come to expect from Georg von Trapp.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Georg loved to watch her struggle. The pleasure; the bondage; the sleek bite of pain… </p><p>Looming above her like this, the skin-to-skin connection felt spiritual. Elemental. Pure kinesis in action; chemicals fizzling under their perfect catalyst. </p><p>Hands splayed, he dragged his fingers along her thighs, the wide-spread tips grazing as she groaned beneath. He could smell the rain; sex soaking everything. </p><p>Cloaked by the dark, Georg ran his mouth along her inner leg: bites and kisses, dragging slow. Her ankles were bound - thighs held apart - knees bent helplessly while she shivered in anticipation. He had tied her down with thick, tight knots of rope (<em>left line over through the bite; slipped back under; pulled through tight</em>), shoring her to his desk - that hard, dark marital bed - and to him.</p><p>Familiar whimpers tumbled from her tongue -- yet they sounded strange beneath the thunder. Georg thought he heard something like his name (caressing his shoulders, tugging his hair). He glanced up, but her face was obscured, rose and amber stretching on for hours.</p><p>He watched as she pulled against her fastenings - the twitch familiar - grinding her hips into air while he spanned a hand across her pelvis. (Cotton. Or perhaps linen. Ribbons shifting). </p><p>Finally, Georg brushed his mouth against her sex.</p><p>He breathed in her scent - earth and storm and floral slick - and told her the truth, all spilling out. <em>If I was your husband</em>, he whispered, <em>this is when I’d fuck you...</em> She gasped in reply, all in white, and he lifted her hips to his mouth, palms cupped as if full of nectar. </p><p>The air around them prickled. Sudden bright flashes. Low moans of filth.</p><p>Georg pulled aside her underwear and let his tongue flicker against the bud. She cried out, borrowed obscenities staining her mouth. It made him smile, lips curving against the pink... </p><p>He dug his fingers into her thighs - full of want - pads kneading while he hummed into her pussy. High on his power and drunk on her taste, he yanked her closer. That inexorable thirst. The ropes groaned while she spasmed and she buried her fingers in his hair, her sweet, hungry gasps spurring him on. She was trying to force him closer. Make him fuck her with his tongue. But Georg bit her thigh in warning, nose grazing darkly against the flesh. She whimpered and he looked up -- lapping slowly as he watched -- making her take it at his pace...</p><p>Yet under the pleasure she looked scarlet with fever. Sweat had plastered hair to her forehead and the sour scent of morphine was seeping through the skin... </p><p>And now he was really fucking her - hard - those slow, unforgiving strokes of his hips, rougher than he should; governess tied to his bed - both tied together - sick and heavy with the weight of their longing.</p><p>The dance was gruff and agonising: the pleasure almost obscene. Georg felt arousal spill up his thighs. It brayed in the thickness of his angry, desperate cock. He burned for her cunt. Kissing her deep. Never enough. Taking and taking and taking.</p><p>But her hair seemed different now: longer, lighter and pinned up in place. Patched together in old and new, everything looked disjointed and as she opened her mouth to let her pleasure out, a siren blared - sharp and terrifying, all of her red and screaming. </p><p>Somewhere distant, men were yelling - telling him to stop, telling him to take more. The sounds shook through him while he fucked. </p><p>And then there was water, flooding their bed -- seeping up and swallowing her whole -- sinking as they writhed -- while she gasped in the salt -- love still tied to their bed -- tied together — sunk down by the weight of their joy.</p><p>And Georg dived down to grab her - arousal booming through the water - the cold, familiar lick of sweat - captain swimming and kicking, quick fingers grasping, palms ripped by rope, lungs burning —</p><p>— But she slipped.</p><p>Eclipsed.</p><p>All red and screaming as she vanished into the wet, black pleasure, gone forever. </p><p>Ragged and gasping; Georg woke with a shot.</p><p>Moaning in fear and full of relief, he sucked in large gulps of air and plastered his hand to his chest. Bare, hot, it was soaked with sweat, heart hammering beneath his fingers - so loud he could almost hear it. </p><p>Outside, soft thunder rumbled across the mountains. The stillness was tangible, rain palpitating on the patio beneath.</p><p>Gruffly, and with an adept flick, Georg unbuttoned his pyjama bottoms and let his cock buck out of the linen. It lay unyielding against his stomach, skin warm and taught - everything throbbing. He took in the agonising hardness; the tip swollen and wet, begging for a home. With a hiss he gripped the base, desperate to touch himself but too tightly wound.</p><p>Georg fell back against the pillows and roughly massaged his temples. His rabid heart persisted. It gnashed in his chest. The gunmetal-grey memories of war resurfaced; buoys bobbing darkly in his fear and lust. He ignored their savagery and the ugly tendrils of grief, letting his arm fall into the sheets. </p><p>He glanced at the window. The glass was smattered with rain, sky-fever breaking while a storm groaned above. </p><p>Patient, Georg allowed the fear to calm. He practiced long-learned skills and reminded himself of who and where he was. His breathing slowed and soon the survival scream abated.</p><p>But it left behind a second arousal, still throbbing in the curve of his palm...</p><p>And then he saw Maria’s eyes, blinking quickly in his mind. Those kind, coy glances. So soothing yet provoking. Memories of his dream began to crest like waves.</p><p>
  <em> Her ankles hotly tied. Making her wait. Letting herself be helpless. So sweet and filthy. All for him.  </em>
</p><p>Georg closed his eyes as his mind, all devouring, tried to recall her taste. He pictured that night, two weeks-past and forever seared, when he slipped her slick into his mouth and heard her gasp at his obscenity. </p><p>Exhaling, he dragged his hand up his length, humming while he let his head knock against the headboard. </p><p>He had tried to renounce her. Push her down into his bones. But that dark urge had other plans. </p><p>Carefully (the lust so close to the top of him), Georg began to pull at himself, watching the head grow angrier with each expert stroke of his hand. Unable to resist, he reluctantly welcomed the familiar pleasure - sensations rippling low between his thighs - bad tongue lapping him into a frenzy. </p><p>He let out a pleasing sigh, running his hand through his hair as he watched the rough sensuality - so practiced yet beautifully wild. </p><p>Georg was a modest man, but he knew himself to be big. And so for a brief moment he admired himself: the long, smooth line of his shaft - the inviting tip, just begging for a tongue...</p><p>He wondered if Maria could take him. <em>How would it feel to have her skilled hands stroking him? The flat of her tongue running up his length?</em></p><p>Teasingly, Georg massaged the head. He brushed over the pre-cum with his thumb and let the memories flood: so delicious and wonderfully base. </p><p><em>Please, punish me, sir... I beg you</em>, she had whined.</p><p>Outside rain tapped at the glass, soaking greedily into the ground. Georg teased his balls as he slowly began to fuck into his palm.</p><p><em>Let me come all over you… please</em>, he reheard her peal.</p><p>He closed his eyes and let his grip grow tighter, the frenzied strokes quickening as his breath began to catch. He saw the pink slip of Maria’s perfect tongue. He felt the warm curve of her ass, rosy with punishment. </p><p>And then it was enough: enough with the hard, rough bucks to tip him over the edge.</p><p>And so Georg came: hard and angry, eyes flying open, jaw clenched, head thrown back as his spine arched off the mattress, seed spilling up his stomach.</p><p>Sated and spent, he hovered in the bliss, the final threads of his dream dissipating into the night.</p><p>Soon his breathing slowed and he closed his eyes, the warmth of the pleasure fizzing within. </p><p>Glistening like an animal, Georg watched the rain, feeling soothed by its patter on the glass. The bedlinen felt soft against his cheek and for a while he dozed in the early mauve light, the scent of the grass creeping through the window.</p><p>Finally satisfied, the storm began to ebb away, enveloped by the mountains and back to the heavens from which it came.</p><hr/><p>When Georg finally awoke, dawn was starting to break. He surmised it to be around five in the morning, with his household still to rise. </p><p>Outside the clouds had broken and the birds were trilling, the rich damp of the cool morning air promising change to come. </p><p>Perhaps he should take a turn in the lake. Cool himself as he did on torrid nights.</p><p>He buttoned his pyjamas and sat gingerly at the edge of his bed. He thought of Maria. The blissful storm of her rumbled in his chest and, unguarded and alone, he let himself bathe her golden hue. </p><p>Georg wondered what they would talk about, sitting here together. <em>What it would be like to be seen by her, like this, so intimate and honest?</em> He blushed a little at the thought. <em>Would she like him? Who he was beneath the habitual remoteness? How lovely it would be to be known by her… seen.</em> </p><p>Often Georg felt as if Maria truly did see him — all his colours and nuance — aspects even he could not glean. In looking out he had made himself visible; spectator becoming subject. Their exchanges left nowhere to hide; souls full-known, even if obscured from the beholder. Maria had stripped him bare. Held a mirror to his glimmering portrait. But it did not frighten him. Indeed, it called him to lean in further: to press himself against her until the lines of them merged into one endless, shimmering mass.</p><p>And so, as Georg had deemed the union impossible, it was in the privacy of his quarters that his secret heart reigned uncensored - that his feral, masculine hunger could prowl unabated.</p><p>Here he would dream. Here would defile and groan. For Georg knew this was the wisest way to sweat the fever out.</p><hr/><p>Haunted by the peach-coloured ghost of Maria's mouth, Georg stayed under the shower’s deluge longer than usual. He chased the heat as it rained from the faucet, bracing his hands on the Italian tile. He sighed in satisfaction. The water slipped down his strong, toned back, the scent of soap gathering in the thick hair of his upper thighs. </p><p>He tried to banish her, but her hot little whimpers persisted. </p><p>Georg craned his head, letting the stream idle along his nose and neck. It stroked his shoulder blades and the muscles of his flanks. It flushed his skin, mapping moles to scars like constellations. </p><p>Hazily, he imagined having Maria with him. <em>How he’d soap her breasts - nipples slipping through the white - and smile at her groans while he squeezed them tight; pinching and caressing, sucking at her neck...</em></p><p>Georg swore into the water as his cock grew hard again.  </p><p>“Fräulein…” he menacingly growled, censoring her even from afar.</p><p>He felt infected by her; suddenly young and drunk on desire. Foolishly, Georg had assumed passion had passed him by - that he should whittle himself away to shell and bone. But he’d aged himself too early; turned himself to ice. Now he felt it simmering within: molten and human and wholly reborn.</p><p>In truth, Captain von Trapp was catching himself in the mirror: discerning the power in his body and the fertile landscape of his mind. He was starting to see -- Maria had made him see -- that at just thirty seven, he was still a man in his prime, with much, much more to give... </p><p>While water echoed off the tiles, Georg imagined the wickedry he’d commit against his his governess. How he’d bend her over and smack her ass; slip into her tight, wet hole and slowly fuck. </p><p>“Fuck...” he grumbled with his sailor-tongue, cock aching for her cunt.</p><p>They could play in here for hours... groaning beneath the spray. <em>Maria on her knees, sucking while he thrust. Hand on her jaw with her looking up sweetly - soft moans vibrating down to his balls. He’d slick back her hair in the wet - take in the lines of her cheekbones as she hollowed them out. Would she let him sheath himself the hilt? Would she choke a little - eyes glassy while she took all of him deep - swallowing every inch? Show him how bad she could be? </em></p><p>Georg took himself in hand again. He knew these fervid images to be vestiges of what had passed between them - the phantoms of pleasures never to come. And so this time he indulged himself, fingers lathered and moving luxuriously from the base of his cock. </p><p>He imagined carrying her to their bed, thighs shining, slipping around his waist. How they would loop around each other like knots - make a mess of the sheets  - all tongues and cock and teeth and lip. He’d pin her to the mattress; throat held tight while he watched the flickers of her smile, screwing her deep. He'd whisper love-oaths within rumbling threats: bad mouth full of what wanted to do to her. Georg saw them come ogether, smiling into each other’s mouths, united in perfection and delirious filth. He heard Maria tell him she loved him, staring into his eyes while he filled her with his seed...</p><p>Georg groaned thickly and leant against the shower wall. </p><p>Hand gliding smoothly, he flicked his wrist to tease the head of his cock. </p><p>He thought of Maria bent over for him. </p><p><em>How he longed to mark her: spill himself over her nubile body - breasts; back; pussy...</em> </p><p><em>Was there time,</em> he wondered, <em>in the coming weeks before her return to the Abbey?</em> <em>To tie her to the desk like he’d imagined? He could press her against the wall, hands bound behind back… He could slip his tie between her teeth, whimpering, while he toyed with her clit. He could hear her pleading to fill her with all of him; his cock, his cum, his love...</em></p><p>Logically Georg knew it all to be finished. Incomplete. But for now he ignored the wisdom. Let the fantasy roam - just a little longer.</p><p>He held her in his heart, and buried her name upon his tongue.</p><p>And when he came a second time that night, adrenaline crackling along his shoulders, Georg felt new youth breathe life into his body.</p><p>While blissful, saline cum spurted from his cock, he threw back his head, dominant creature rippling with glacial power.</p><p>He bit down on his teeth and a deep, satisfied growl rumbled off the tiles -- and in its wake a man in full-potenial, standing tall at just thirty seven. </p><p>Georg knew only a connection this pure could make him so filthy - so free. He’d hoped there was time. To taste her once more. But as he washed his pleasure away he knew their intimacies would remain thus: Fantasy lived in solitude.</p><p>And so Georg quietly dressed himself. Buttoned it all away.</p><p>Maria would soon live inside him like a jewel. Together they would laugh and writhe in ways he had always dreamed. They would dance and grow; explore and heave -- a small flame flickering in the dark of his soul.</p><p>And even if it was only half-lived, Georg would be forever grateful; to not only have been liberated, but to have been made alive. </p><p>Even if she had no idea. </p><p>Even if it was only for one short, glorious summer…</p><hr/><p>Already focused on the day ahead, Georg opened the door, biting at his inner lip, eyes downcast.</p><p>But within an instant, he was distracted by a dark figure moving with care across the hall. Already dressed, she was unhurriedly making her way to the children’s rooms, and Gretl was lightly cradled in her arms.</p><p>Surprise plucked at Georg’s brow: this domestic prospect, gracing his halls. </p><p>The two appeared to be in each other’s confidence, but their feminine mumbles were too soft for him to discern.</p><p>Closing the door behind him, Georg felt his heart soften, paternal planes shifting beneath their ice. </p><p>He tilted his head to take them in, full of curiosity and gentle warmth. As if drawn but soft threads, he began to move towards them, following the line of the balcony, unseen and unwilling to disturb. </p><p>Maria set her charge down at the bedroom door. It all looked so calm. Natural.</p><p>Georg enjoyed the way she smoothed his daughter’s hair, palms tidying the frazzled strands that splayed above like a rambunctious halo. </p><p>The gesture seemed easy - <em>maternal</em>...</p><p>Georg’s throat constricted with surprise, a tender flux rippling through his chest. <em>These feelings, long forgotten, somehow flickering beneath the snow</em>... he swallowed the strange little knot that had gathered in his throat. </p><p>Maria was buttoning Gretl’s cardigan, carefully tugging at the shoulders where it had slipped. Georg was close enough now to hear the cooing tones of her voice. His gaze flickered affectionately to his daughter, who was absent-mindedly scratching her arm, nodding up at her governess with large, sleepy eyes. </p><p>Moving with careful, familiar grace, Georg finally emerged from the shadows, a glitter crossing his as he caught his daughter’s gaze. </p><p>“Father!” she called, rubbing her eye. </p><p>Maria stood but did not look his way. </p><p>“Were you scared by the storm too?” Gretl earnestly asked.</p><p>For a second, Georg looked at Maria. </p><p>“No, my love,” he smiled at Gretl, kneeling down to meet her. “And how could I be with you by my side?” he teased, carefully poking at her tummy. </p><p>Gretl bobbed on her heels in excitement. </p><p>Georg noticed the meadow flower clasped tightly in her hand. </p><p>“Fräulein Maria taught me a song.”</p><p>“Ahh…” </p><p>“And only I know it.”</p><p>“I see,” Georg replied, idly stroking her hair.</p><p>“She told me that I am brave.”</p><p>“Indeed you are,” Maria frowned seriously, clasping her hands in front of her waist. </p><p>“Just like you, Father!” Gretl innocently praised.</p><p>Caught off guard and a little abashed, Georg laughed diffidently and glanced at the carpet.</p><p>“Back to bed now, Gretl,” Maria guided, sensing his discomcomfort.</p><p>“But I’m not tired…”</p><p>Georg rose from his knee, standing tall beside them both. Maria fleetingly looked over at him, drawn by his masculine presence.</p><p>“Why don’t you lie down for a little while and see?” she offered.</p><p>“Must I... ?”</p><p>“Mmhm…” Georg answered.</p><p>“Yes...” Maria simultaneously echoed.  </p><p>“Alright...” she conceded theatrically, unseeing as Georg and Maria hid their knowing mirth. </p><p>Taking her by the shoulders, Maria gently manoeuvred Gretl into the room. Georg waited, leaning against the door frame while he watched them disappear into the dark.</p><p>After a moment, Maria re-emerged, eyes lowered as she came close, shutting the door with care.</p><p>Georg’s voice was gentle when it reached her - subdued with parental intimacy and the weight of the hour. </p><p>“That happen often?”</p><p>Maria smoothed her skirt and shook her head. “Rarely.” She stepped back a little and finally looked at him. “You disapprove?” </p><p>“I do not,” Georg replied steadily. </p><p>Maria noted the look of curiosity on his face: the unintrusive appraisal. </p><p>Georg pushed himself off the frame. “They’re all rather… <em> taken </em> with you…”</p><p>He liked the smile she tried to hide. The happiness hidden at the corner of her mouth.</p><p>“And I with them.”</p><p>
  <em>Stay...</em>
</p><p>He heard it in his mind, clear as a lark.</p><p>Instead he simply nodded, exhaling while he glanced around the hall. Maria waited. Her hands were clasped tight, knuckles white.</p><p>“It’s early…” Georg told her, voice almost a whisper. </p><p>Their eyes met.</p><p>“Yes,” Maria returned.</p><p>A tender pause. Strangely comfortable. </p><p>“We have prepared something-” she began.</p><p>“Yes-”</p><p>“For this evening-”</p><p>“I’m aware.”</p><p>Another silence slipped between them.</p><p>“Good,” Maria whispered pointlessly after a moment.</p><p>Georg tried to understand the soft frown that danced across her face. He thought he saw her eyes flicker to his mouth. </p><p>But then again, none of it mattered. Not anymore.</p><p>“You would tell me. If you were displeased...”</p><p>Georg's eyes grew dark. “If I were, you would know..."</p><p>A delicious flutter, deep in them both. </p><p>Georg felt the space between them crackle, heavy as if full of stars, and so impossibly bright. </p><p>Quickly, he peered over his shoulder. The house was starting to stir. </p><p>“Good morning, Fräulein,” he courteously nodded, reluctant to part.</p><p>“Good morning, Captain,” Maria replied - tongue slow.</p><p>She watched him flow down the stairs, with his well-cut jacket and sharp, handsome features. Her eyes lingered while he toyed with the gilt buttons on his cuff, jealous at his apparent ease.</p><p>Distractedly, she rubbed her chest and let her fingers trace the line of her neck. She stood for a moment, lost in her thoughts, but soon Frau Schmidt emerged, and the two smiled warmly at each other before Maria disappeared into her quarters.</p><p>Sitting on her bed, Maria lifted the floral chain she had made for Gretl. She slipped it between her fingers, and cradled it in her lap, suddenly filled with a hundred kinds of longing. </p><hr/><p>Georg had made a point not to look back at her.</p><p>To quarterise her prescene like a priest would a sin.</p><p>As he walked into the garden, breathing in the new wet earth, he promised to close the night away inside him. To pluck out the folly and protect them both.</p><p>If he were a superstitious man, Georg may have recognised his dream, delivered out of thunder, for what it truly was: a prophecy.</p><p>But being of a practical nature, the notion did not cross his mind.</p><p>Instead, it lay as a half-forgotten treasure, one to be lived again and again and again.</p><p>And sooner than he might expect...</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hooray. We made it to the party. The chapter I've been writing towards. Thank you for your kudos and beautiful comments. It makes my heart sing. With love |Saint Joan|</p><p>ohsaintjoan.tumblr.com</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Pull me closer</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi everyone! Goodness me. This was by far the most challenging (and longest!) chapter I've written. In fact, it was possibly the most challenging thing I've written, ever! That being said, I really hope you enjoy it :) </p><p>Thank you endlessly for your kind comments and kudos. They have honestly proven the backbone of this chapter, so thanks for keeping me going. I will do my best to reply to you all.  </p><p>Lastly, welcome new readers and my continued thanks to the long-standing readers. We're nearly there- only a few chapters left! :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>An ocean of white and gold as far as the eye could see.</p><p>Long-cherished acquaintances; community elders; the duty invites -- smug and uninspiring.</p><p>And amongst them Maria, wholesome and blushing in ice-spring blue. </p><p>Georg smiled as he dutifully received another guest. Passing them hand-to-hand to Elsa, he offered her name on repeat, the word growing blunt and meaningless on his tongue. </p><p>Above them, excitement shimmered in the chandeliers, sticking like cobwebs, thick enough to touch. Candles flickered in the pool of gloves and pearl, and everywhere conversation babbled, aristocratic politeness swirling with ease. </p><p>It was undeniable. Elsa shone beside him: a faultless phenomenon in all he would expect. Guilty, resigned, Georg had committed himself to her introduction, understanding what was expected -- and the bed he had made for himself. Suddenly a pawn in his own checkered future, he tried to catch the passion he was meant to feel, but as she stood beside him - a queen in haute couture - his burdened heart felt shame.</p><p>For across the room stood Maria, cutting through the lustre like a summer breeze. He felt her as if they were entwined, deft fingers pulling on his threads without even trying. Out of the corner of his eye, Georg read the poetry of her; the line of her shoulders; the temperature of her gait. And as he smiled and shook hands with old friends, he felt his spirit float across the mass, half with her, as always, in secret communion. </p><p>In this way he watched her. How she observed the guests; assumed she was imperceptible to them all. But for Georg she blazed in his periphery like a comet, her modest movements a force majeure rippling through the crowd.</p><p>This union was hidden and splendid: and known only to them both.</p><p>And so under this canopy of laughter - glasses chiming against a waltz in E major - our protagonists began their bond of marriage: devoted in one mind, united beyond the tangible, and bound by unbreakable, immortal ties. </p><hr/><p>It took some time for the right opportunity to emerge, and so when it finally did Georg was quick to move. Never one to read a situation incorrectly, his ability to strategise was well regarded - and second only to his agility.</p><p>Indeed, his approach was so elegantly played that his arrival at Maria’s side surprised even her, despite her continual awareness of his presence. But she hid her blushes well, her relative subordination a fitting disguise.</p><p>“Fräulein…” Georg coolly greeted, gloves held loose in his palm. He was careful to keep his body open to the room - anything that allowed him to hide in plain sight - to linger longer. </p><p>“Good evening,” Maria replied. Her heart was palpitating. She didn’t quite know what to do with her hands. </p><p>A hum of polite activity surged about them.</p><p>Each felt soothed by the other - a shared anchor in the glittering spectacle - but in such a public setting their intimacy, usually so familiar, felt strange and unnerving. </p><p>Both felt a little too warm; abnormally tense.</p><p>There was a stilted pause. </p><p>“It’s a fine evening,” Maria offered.</p><p>“Oh, yes,” Georg noted, scanning his guests while he stole this moment with her. “And... all is well with the children...?” Again, that arch tone. He just couldn’t help himself... </p><p>“Yes, Captain,” came her clipped return.</p><p>“Good. Good...” Georg nodded to a friend from across the room. “And-- where are they<em> exactly</em>?” he pointedly teased, throwing her a witting look.</p><p>Maria took in a little air. Smiles hidden. “Being hopelessly spoiled, I’d expect...” she breezed, watching the dresses sway.</p><p>The captain cocked his brow, gaze hovering distractedly at her lips. “Oh?” He was finding this exchange puzzlingly endearing.</p><p>“Frau Schmidt had some Mozartkugel made especially for the occasion. Did you know?”</p><p>“No.” Georg glanced to the kitchen, envisioning his many children suddenly covered in chocolate. </p><p>“I’m to understand it’s their favourite,” Maria continued.</p><p>“It is,” he looked back, working to ignore the allure of her modest dirndl, so in contrast to the reams of Crêpe De Chine that now filled his home.</p><p>“Well, naturally I’ve never seen them so happy-”</p><p>“Huh-” Georg half-laughed, eyes trained on her mouth. </p><p>“And they were quite uninterested in me, I assure you. So, it was suggested I join the party, just for a moment,” Maria explained, not meeting his eye while she chattered in her usual, uncomplicated manner. Then she seemed to grow a little reticent. “The thing is, I don’t know a soul here...” </p><p>Georg regarded her gently, eyes shifting into dark brilliance. “You know me,” he carefully replied. He tried to lighten his voice: to hide his innate meaning. </p><p>Maria looked up, breath catching under his simmering regard. “Yes. I suppose do,” she blushed, looking to the floor.</p><p>But then a stranger came to their rescue: a kind-looking elderly lady, adorned with a diamond necklace.</p><p>“<em>There </em> you are!” she carolled, gliding towards them. “I have found you at last…” </p><p>Arm in arm, a couple trailed behind her. Dark and slight, they moved slowly — as the rich are wont to do.</p><p>The older woman reached her hands out to Georg and he took them gladly with his own. Interested, and a tad bewitched, Maria observed the genuine smile that now illuminated his face. </p><p>“Baroness von Erlanger. <em> How good to see you</em>,” he began. </p><p>“And it’s good to see <em> you</em>, Georg,” she affectionately impressed, squeezing his hands like only a matriarch could. “Too long…” she added, with a sadness that left as soon as it arrived. “You remember my son, of course - and Sofie, his wife.”</p><p>“Indeed,” Georg sparkled. “Sofie... Klaus... It’s good to see you.” </p><p>“The children?” the Baroness asked, letting him go.</p><p>“In perfect health,” he assured, leaning towards her in deference.</p><p>“<em>Ahh</em>.”</p><p>“You will see them later, no doubt.”</p><p>“Oh, I do hope so,” she smiled, eyes narrowing in play as she placed a caring hand on his arm. </p><p>With such fondness between them, Maria wondered about the nature of their acquaintance. But soon the Baroness glanced in her direction, curious and clearly expecting an introduction. </p><p>“Baroness; Frau Erlanger; Herr Erlanger,” the Captain responded, “this is Maria Rainer. My governess.”</p><p>“Good evening, Baroness,” Maria nodded. Georg was suddenly caught by the charismatic glimmer in her face. “Good evening,” she repeated to the couple, taking their proffered hands in greeting. </p><p>“A pleasure,” Baroness von Erlanger smiled, eyeing Maria with intrigue. She slyly glanced over her shoulder to her daughter-in-law. “Maria, perhaps you could help us…” she lowered her head as if filled with secrets. “We have been hearing rumours of a <em> special performance </em>this evening and we are rather curious indeed...”</p><p>Baroness von Erlanger looked briefly at Georg, her eyes twinkling with mischief. Georg crossed his arms and raised a hand to his mouth. He chuckled to himself, feeling no need to speak on Maria’s behalf. </p><p>“Ah. I’m afraid my lips are <em>quite </em> sealed, Baroness...” Maria elegantly replied, clasping her hands in front of her. Delighted, the family laughed. Maria glowed. All eyes were upon her, and as Georg watched her charm them all, a hidden smile hovered at his lips. <em> She was lovely. </em></p><p>“How enchanting...” the Baroness echoed to nobody in particular. “Well then, I shall not press you any further, Fräulein Maria. Nor shall I take up any more of your time,” she graciously added. </p><p>The Baroness glanced over to the Austrian colours hanging conspicuously from the balcony. “We’ll talk later...” she told Georg, eyes narrowing knowingly. He bowed a little in reply, watching as the Baroness squeezed Maria’s hand and then left. </p><p>Alone again, the two of them stood in silence. Another waltz had begun, but Georg was eyeing the flag. Maria observed his faraway look. Something broody seemed to pass across his face. She desired desperately to soothe him but had neither the knowledge nor the right to do so. </p><p>“It seems that everyone wants to know you, Captain.”</p><p>“And yet so few do,” he replied, distant. Finally, he met her eye. Georg knew he could not stay any longer. “You’ll see the children are taken care of this evening? Make sure they don’t... <em> get in the way,</em>” he added sardonically.</p><p>But this attempt at a shared, parental joke didn’t quite land as he’d hoped. </p><p>“Don’t I always take care of the children...?” Maria frowned.</p><p>“Yes, of course. I only meant -”</p><p>“Georg!” </p><p>Another friend, another moment lost.</p><p>“Hans,” the Captain replied, respectfully clicking his heels, as was the custom. </p><p>“Excuse me,” Maria muttered, finally retreating out of sight. </p><p>Georg’s gaze followed her for as long as he could allow. Their sentiments were unfinished and he could feel the frustration building. But he also noted the champagne steadily flooding the house, glasses refilling with expert invisibility. And, with greetings soon to be exhausted, his guests’ conversations would unwind amongst themselves, his presence no longer novel -- or required. </p><p>The music swelled. </p><p>He did not realise it, but Georg knew exactly what was going to happen.</p><hr/><p>The pillar felt cool against Maria’s skin. A quiet cradle, it propped her up: sweet respite from the finery and buzz, body bathed in blue-dark light. </p><p>She was thinking of the children: how they had shooed her away in youthful conspiracy. She understood their desire to be unchaperoned - for their eyes and ears to wander as they made their sense of the world. And so bright with laughter she had left them, free from adult attendance, if only for a little while. </p><p>Maria smiled and closed her eyes. Just a few minutes more and she would return. </p><p>It was calm in the library - a little chilly - and the scent of the old pages proved a comfort. She had chosen it for its privacy, understanding that no guest would think to enter. Muffled orchestral strokes purred through the brickwork, and she hovered in their melody, sweet stillness her only companion. </p><p>Or, so she had thought.</p><p>For while Maria did not hear the Captain approach, she felt his presence charge the air. </p><p>He was running his fingers along the bookcases, hands still clad leather as he idly stroked the spines. Maria felt her sex tighten at his proximity, blood pressure faltering in anticipation.</p><p>Half-hunter, half-languid, Georg followed the pull of her presence. Step placed before step, his gentle, hopeful heart willed him forward, every nerve poised and impossibly sharp.</p><p>Given the circumstances it was lunacy to be there. Dangerous, even. His absence would soon be noted, and he knew the eyes of his many acquaintances to be swift and all-discerning. But her current felt polar and unbreakable. And so Georg dared greatly, unable to name his master as either courage or stupidity -- although love, it has been said, often bows to both. </p><p>Georg bit his inner lip, molten eyes on Maria’s frame as his mind whirred quicksilver-fast. </p><p><em> No. This was where he wanted to be</em>. </p><p>And so into his future he continued, simmering stillness hiding his truth.</p><p>“Your guests...” Maria began as he appeared from the shadows. “Won’t they miss you?” It flew from her lips faster than she could control -- so on edge and tightly wound. </p><p>Running his eyes over the titles, Georg nodded to himself darkly, the minute gesture almost missable. “Probably,” he admitted.</p><p>Hidden between the bookcases, the eyes of a thousand authors fell upon them, hopeful tongues goading - whispering into the dark. </p><p>Maria slid her hands behind her back to steady herself. In the hall, the crowd droned.</p><p>“There are so many of them…” </p><p>“Hnm.” An evil spectre flickered, its brutal future soon to come. “Not all worth knowing, I’m sorry to say.'' </p><p>Georg continued to draw near, bringing nothing but thick heat and threat with him. </p><p>“What are you doing in here?” His tone was cool. Steady. </p><p>Maria shivered as adrenaline pooled in her stomach. She did not know how to answer, and so merely shook her head and looked away. </p><p>“The children -” </p><p>“This isn’t about the children,” Georg returned with a level voice, unwilling to be pulled off course. </p><p>Maria buried his meaning, choosing denial over recognition. But Georg waited, eyes glinting seriously. He had seen her enter. Mid-conversation, and between the flurry of glittering bodies, her movements had stilled the world. And Georg had watched, heart thrumming, while Maria looked back over her shoulder - the gesture fleeting but undeniable - eyes locked and suspended in the sartorial haze, just for a moment. </p><p>
  <em> She had looked back. </em>
</p><p>“Why did you come in here, Maria?” He pressed, moving closer. </p><p>It was then Maria realised what Georg already knew. She had been waiting here -- for him. Her heart began to race, body understanding what was about to unfold. </p><p>“I’m just a little tired -” she said.</p><p>“Tired...” Georg echoed knowingly. </p><p>“I’ve not been sleeping well...” </p><p>He was right before her now. </p><p>“No?’</p><p>Maria’s head fell back against the pillar. </p><p>“No...”</p><p>She was no longer in control, full-corrupted by the exquisite waves now rolling through her body.</p><p>Around them the air bristled, particles swaying like an ocean between shores -- bodies touching even when apart. </p><p>Compelled; cautious, Georg felt himself slip between certainty and hope. It was as if Maria were opening before him -- yielding to a truth he could glimpse in her eyes.</p><p>
  <em> I’ve not been sleeping well... </em>
</p><p>Deep down, Georg knew. Even if he couldn’t let himself accept it. </p><p>And so he asked her. Came to her open-palmed with the chance to banish pretence forever. </p><p>“Why?” </p><p>Functional; economic; entirely rhetorical. </p><p>A single word. And in it, the rest of their lives.</p><p>There was an inevitable pause.</p><p>Bright, light future breaking into being.</p><p>In electric silence Georg waited - patient - eyes searching for his inevitable answer.  </p><p>And then it came.</p><p>Drowsy like a dream.</p><p>As slowly, Maria lifted her hand and stroked the scar beneath his mouth... </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Georg couldn’t breathe.</p><p>The gesture had laid him bare.</p><p>His hammered jaggedly beneath the ribbons -- red and white -- the celebrated hero utterly commanded. </p><p>Maria watched with helpless abandon as the tips of her fingers brushed beneath his lower lip. She frowned, bewitched by the feel of his skin against hers. </p><p>“This isn’t how it’s meant to be…” she whispered. Understanding had started to dawn. </p><p>“No...” Georg softly conceded, guilt and attraction rippling deep. </p><p>“I have my duty...” </p><p>They were watching each other’s mouths.</p><p>“As do I...” he replied. </p><p>Somewhere a crowd broke into applause, but Georg and Maria knew only each other, the world rendered mute by their shared spell. </p><p>Maria distractedly lowered her hand to Georg’s chest. To touch him was unreal: a sizzling shock to the system. She ran her palm over the medals pinned to his heart, the warm, hard planes of him an endless expanse. </p><p>Georg stood monument-still as he let Maria explore his body. A fever flushed across his skin -- a cold, cruel burning, eating him alive. Desperate for dominance, he let her lead them deeper into torment, leather creaking while his hands balled at his side.</p><p>Slowly, Maria curled her fingers around Georg’s lapel and began to pull him close. His mind racing, Georg countered her draw, cock hardening as the heat from their bodies began to merge.</p><p>“Tell me why you’re here…” he repeated, brow creasing in distraction. He couldn’t tear his eyes from her mouth.</p><p>“I don’t…” The words dissolved on Maria’s tongue. His chest felt so broad. “Please -” she frowned, punchdrunk and staring at his scar. <em> Please don’t make me say it.</em>..</p><p>But as Maria gazed up through her lashes, she told Georg all he needed to know -- that there was a home in her for all that he was. And for all he wanted to do. </p><p>And so Georg began to claim the control he had resisted taking, power passing from one to the other in a delicious oscillation of energy. </p><p>With dizzying adroitness, he positioned his thigh between hers.</p><p>“Is this what you want?” he asked, tilting his head as he began to play. His chest lay flush against her breasts, and his nose was close enough to graze her cheek. </p><p>Trembling beneath him, Maria raised her chin a fraction, lips almost brushing his. She closed her eyes and nodded -- desperate. </p><p>The Captain unhurriedly rested his forearm above her head. </p><p>Enclosed, Maria let out a needy hum. His vitality pulsated through her: master conquering with the lightest touch. Yet above her, unseen, Georg’s hand clenched into a fist as like Atlas he struggled under the weight of their hunger.</p><p><em> He should leave, </em> he told himself. <em> He should leave, he should leave, he should leave… </em></p><p>"Show me.” </p><p>The timbre of his tongue knocked Maria senseless.</p><p>Slowly, and with desire only to obey, she opened her eyes. The Captain’s gaze was dark and nebulous, and feral suffering shivered through her sex. </p><p>Releasing her grip on his jacket, Maria lowered her hand to his. She gasped at the sublime clash of skin on leather, brushing her knuckles against his, their fingers flexing as if to entwine<em>. </em>Then, cheeks flushed, she finally lifted his hand and slipped it between her thighs. </p><p>Georg let out a low, menacing growl.</p><p>
  <em>The warmth of her sex, pressed into his palm; governess guiding him to claim and corrupt her... </em>
</p><p>Hungrily, he pressed his fingertips to her entrance and watched the ecstasy ripple across her face. She let out a whimper at the pressure, a vice-like grip burning into his wrist. </p><p>Withholding her pleasure, Georg listened to the short bursts of anticipation that punctuated Maria’s chest.</p><p>And while she grew wilder at the stillness of him, he cocked his head to take her in, gaze lingering languidly at her lips. He undulated his palm through the cotton folds of her skirts and she hummed tensely, tightening her fingers on his lapels. She was trying to pull him closer, but Georg was strong, empowered by the whimpers as he ground into her pussy. </p><p>Softly, he began to stroke along her slit, and leant in to graze his nose against her cheek. “Tell me this is what you want,” he whispered, voice menacing and lovely.</p><p>Maria arched her back and tilted her pelvis towards him. </p><p>“You’re going you say it,” he growled, pressing his palm into her clit and ignoring her gasps. “<em>Beg me for it </em>...” </p><p>“Please...” Maria arched submissively, time so precious and slipping fast. “I want you to- please.”</p><p>Maria whined when Georg removed his hand from her thighs. Eyes darting from pupil to pupil, he held her gaze, making her watch while he raised his hand to his mouth and bit down on the tip of his leather glove. Fawn-like and transfixed, Maria’s attention flickered to his mouth as he smoothly pulled it from his hand, leather gripped between his teeth. </p><p>Under the glassy sheen of her gaze, Georg pocketed the glove, daring her to challenge him -- instruct him to hurry. </p><p>Just then, on the other side of the wall, a group of gentlemen laughed. Maria gasped and looked over, but Georg held steady, an unmoving monument of raw masculinity. He carefully took her chin and turned her face back to him. <em> Look at me</em>, the gesture said. <em> I am here</em>, it assured. </p><p>Wordlessly, he ran his thumb along Maria’s bottom lip, head tilting as he teased her with a kiss that wouldn’t come. He grazed her tongue with the tip, and Maria’s eyelids flickered, softly biting at him with a delighted smile. She gripped tighter against his lapels, but Georg held firm.</p><p>“Please…” Maria whispered, wild and sensing his resolve. </p><p>Georg’s eyes followed his hand as it slipped down the line of her waist, exploring and ignoring until he was obeyed. Maria tried to move closer, but he pushed her back forcefully into the pillar with his palm. </p><p>“Please, sir,” Maria finally implored, closing her eyes with the force of her want. “Please, please touch me… touch all of me, I beg you...” </p><p>Georg let out a gentle, knowing hum, his throat full of praise. He lowered his hand to the hem of her dirndl and with strong, hungry fingers began to push it up her thigh. “You’re going to look at me,” he told her, fingers slipping higher as he watched.</p><p>With great effort, Maria did as he bade her, opening her eyes - so lush and green - to peer at him through her lashes. Georg felt his adrenaline gush and Maria whined into her throat, hardly able to sense where the edges of her body began. The eroticism of facing him like this - watching him explore his power - the ruins of her respectability glistening between her legs.</p><p>“So obedient…” Georg said, the approval as much adoration as control.</p><p>In the ballroom, the crowd broke into dainty applause for the orchestra, an exchange hardly registered by the Captain and his governess. Instead, Georg hissed as he brushed Maria’s clit through her underwear, thumb slipping against the wetness. His touch sent a shock of euphoria through Maria’s every nerve -- ancient pathways illuminating with perfect violence. She sucked in a cry, utterly helpless, and Georg raised his chin in gratification, eyes ravishing every inch.</p><p>“So wet…” he condescended, cock pulsating with possibility. “Just like I thought - unable to help yourself…”  Through the cotton, he pressed hard against her bud, watching as Maria arched off the pillar - as she forced herself to hold his gaze. He hummed, the sound wholly wicked, and began to circle her clit. “All night watching you: wondering,” he confessed, speech messy and unplanned. “Thinking nobody noticed you. Unable to rid myself of the taste of you...” </p><p>Maria bucked against him, yanking at his jacket while she let out a whimper. It echoed between them, high pitched, visceral and buried beneath the murmurs of the party. “Everyone wanting to talk - people I’ve known for years… and you, standing there in your country dress...” Georg lowered his mouth to her shoulder. “All I can think about,” he whispered, kissing her skin. Maria instinctively grabbed his shoulders. “All I want...” he slipped the tip of his fingers under the hem of her underwear, tracing the line of her sex.</p><p>“<em>Please </em>…” Maria begged, unravelling at the pleasure. She pressed her cheek against his temple, skin against skin, but Georg simply ignored her, mouth soft on her neck. </p><p>“Is this what you wanted...” he continued, while he roughly pulled aside her briefs, soaked now from their bliss. </p><p>“I-”</p><p>“When you hid yourself in here?” </p><p>Maria sucked in a breath as Georg began to stroke her, bare fingers licking against her cunt. Tips and length, all of him conspired to coax her folds, devoid of mercy while he teased her shy and swollen clit.</p><p>Maria felt herself gush. His touch felt luminous and sweet. </p><p>“Open your legs,” Georg demanded, soft lips stern on her neck.</p><p>Maria pressed her weight into the pillar to splay her thighs wider, moaning while he took more of her.</p><p>Hand still buried between her legs, Georg removed his arm from the pillar and took Maria by the throat. Lightly, he began to squeeze and a flare of adrenaline shot through her body. Her eyelids grew heavy, laden with ecstasy, and Georg felt a happy moan reverberate through his fingers. </p><p>“Is this what you wanted when you looked back at me?” he continued.</p><p>But Maria could not answer, logic eclipsed by the strokes on her clit.</p><p>And so Georg clasped her tighter - anchoring her back to him.</p><p>“Nmnnnhm…” she throatily whimpered, eyes rolling while he squeezed. Underneath his domination she felt safe and cherished - the corruption burning her pure, as flames do a saint. </p><p>“Did you think I wouldn’t notice…?”</p><p>He pressed roughly into her clit, watching her every flicker.</p><p>“I’ll always notice...” he whispered, loosening his grip on her throat.</p><p>In the rush, Maria felt her heart glow, the yielding of her body only emboldening her heart.</p><p>The glimmers of Georg’s adoration somehow heightened his control, and there was tenderness in his eyes - unimaginable and terrifying. </p><p>In the heat of it, the Captain had neglected his mask. She could see him shimmer beneath.</p><p>And so pinned to the pillar, velvet pleasure on her clit, his hand firm around her throat, Maria almost came.</p><p>
  <em>Not yet… </em>
</p><p>Seeing the climax hover behind her eyes, Georg slowed his touch. </p><p>Maria entwined her fingers in his hair and he tilted into the contact, pulse racing under the weight of her trust. </p><p>But then it happened. </p><p>In just a flash. </p><p><em> I want to feel you inside me</em>.</p><p>The idea was gone as soon as it arrived, but Georg had seen it, dashing across her face like a bright shadow.</p><p>In a haze, Maria watched him consider it.</p><p>
  <em>Wrapping her legs around him; fucking her slow while music and conversation roared... </em>
</p><p>Georg distractedly grazed her cheek with his fingers. <em> I can’t, </em> his eyes unknowingly told her. <em> Not like this... </em> </p><p>But this unconscious exchange - this quiet assurance - was in fact an oath.</p><p><em>Not like this. </em> It said. <em> But soon. And over and over and over... </em></p><p>And so it was in place of this vow that Georg broke another -- one he had made as a different man -- as finally, he claimed Maria for his own and slipped his fingers inside her.</p><p>In sweet, perfect bliss.</p><p>Groaning together, their foreheads bowed to touch in feverish abandon.</p><p>Maria suddenly grasped at the hand working between her thighs and for a moment Georg was convinced of the worst - that he had misread everything, taken too much - but she simply guided his hand deeper, grinding her hips towards him while he slipped further into her heat.</p><p>“<em>Fuckk </em>…” he growled as the hot, soaked folds of her cunt clamped around him. </p><p>Maria bucked into him, full of awe and hunger, mewling obscenely while her slick soaked his skin.</p><p>She felt full. Reborn.</p><p>Possessor and possessed as her swollen walls expanded and constricted at his touch.</p><p>
  <em>Was this would it could be like? To be filled and touched as a husband does a wife?</em>
</p><p>Georg impulsively took Maria by the throat. “<em>Such a bad girl… </em>” he struggled as he began to fuck into her,  movements gruff under her guidance, pumping deep with his fingers, thumb circling her clit. </p><p>Maria yielded herself to him fully, running her hands up his chest and slipping them beneath his jacket.</p><p>“Tell me what you’re thinking,” she hummed, as Georg squeezed at her throat once more. </p><p>“No..” he rumbled, changing his rhythm to slow the rapture down.</p><p>“I want to know...” she said, head captitualing into the pillar, closing her eyes in full delight, “what you would do to me…”</p><p>“<em>Stop </em>,” Georg growled.</p><p>“Please tell me-” but her words were cut short -- gasping -- as Georg curled his fingers inside her to brush against a raised spot behind her clit.</p><p>Maria whimpered loudly, her ecstasy swallowed by an elegant polka.</p><p>“My bad little Fräulein...” </p><p>
  <em>The endless, godly bliss-</em>
</p><p>“You pretend to be so pure…”</p><p>
  <em>Pressure building-</em>
</p><p>“Georg…” Maria took hold of his hand at her throat.</p><p>
  <em>Pleasure spiralling out from her clit-</em>
</p><p>“Beckoning me in here…”</p><p>
  <em>The music grew louder-</em>
</p><p>“Please...” </p><p>
  <em>A portent for what was soon to follow-</em>
</p><p>“Wanting to know...” </p><p>- And Georg knew exactly what he was doing.</p><p>Fucking her steadily, he coaxing her clit with perfect, loving strides, mouth at her ear.</p><p>“How I would tie you to this pillar…” he whispered.</p><p>She gasped.</p><p>“Gag you with my tie…”</p><p>The ecstasy was too acute.</p><p>“Making you bite down and be quiet…”</p><p>Maria’s eyes grew glassy. </p><p>"Please..."</p><p>Georg pulled back to look at her: gulping down her bliss.</p><p>“Wrapping your legs around me...”</p><p>She dared to look him in the eye as he spoke, gushing under his gaze.</p><p>“And fuck you… deep.”</p><p>“Nnm...” </p><p>“Ruthless-”</p><p>“Georg…”</p><p>“Taking what I give you-”</p><p>“Georg, I-”</p><p>“My bad Fräulein…”</p><p>Maria’s eyes slipped closed. She didn’t need to tell him. He knew everything. </p><p>“You like that, don’t you? Hearing what I would do to you.”</p><p>Maria felt corrupted by his tongue, mind split between his words and the dizzying, slow fucks of his fingers.</p><p>“Yes, sir...”</p><p>“Filling you with my cock...”</p><p>Georg felt Maria spread her legs, willing him deeper.</p><p>“Yes, sir...” </p><p>He roughened his strokes on her clit.</p><p>“And my cum…”</p><p>Maria’s cheeks were flushed; her pupils dilated.</p><p>“Yes - please, I…”</p><p>Georg had marked the change in her breathing - could hear her needy, whining mewls as they came out in fits and starts.</p><p>He’d seen her pleasure before.</p><p>Was slowly mapping it out, inch by inch.</p><p>And so he knew what neared - what she needed. </p><p>“You’ll look at me whilst I’m talking to you, Fräulein,” he oozed darkly, understanding his attention was the last violence she craved. </p><p>“I can’t...” she whispered, orgasm starting to twitch in her thighs. </p><p>Georg’s heartbeat had quickened, almost painful in his chest.</p><p>He knew his guests were on the other side of the wall, expecting him any moment - their children.</p><p>He knew soon she would leave.</p><p>But he could not tear himself away from this moment.</p><p>From this remarkable, singular woman and her incandescent ecstasy.</p><p>“Yes, you can…” he reassured, soft tongue a perfect clash with his brutal sensualism. </p><p>As she opened her eyes, Georg curled his fingers again to caress the raised spot behind her clit.</p><p>Her walls were clamping down on him and he groaned, full of love and impossibly hard. </p><p>“Would you have liked that?” he asked, beguiled.</p><p>“Yes, sir…” </p><p>“Taking it from me-” </p><p>“I… would have... begged you for it…”</p><p>Maria began to tremble, fingers grasping helplessly on his jacket; hand tangled in his hair. </p><p>“Beg me now…”</p><p>She began to whine recklessly and he let her; wanting her pleasure to be unbound; determined to keep them safe as he held her, tightening his grip on her throat, edging her to oblivion. </p><p>“<em>Please</em>…”</p><p>It was all Georg could do not to press his mouth to hers: seal them in their doom with a kiss -- that last horizon.</p><p>Somewhere, sadness twinged in his chest.</p><p>“Please let me come…” the words were almost inaudible, but Georg felt a jolt of satisfaction shoot up his cock.</p><p>Her pleasure cantering, Maria moaned filthily and let her head fall against the pillar.  </p><p>“That’s it...” Georg said, ignoring the gnawing of time while he gripped her throat tight.</p><p>He was fucking her hard now, feeling her cunt twitch.</p><p>“I want to watch you come in this pretty little dress - just for me.”</p><p>Maria could feel his heart beating under her palm - just as hard and fast as hers.</p><p>“Let me touch you…” she whispered, but in the haze she saw him shake his head. </p><p>Georg wanted to explain. Tell her the reason. But instead he stayed silent, transfixed as Maria began to fall into the abyss.</p><p>“Don’t stop,” she suddenly pleaded, grabbing his collar. “Don’t, don’t stop…” her legs began to shudder.</p><p>A small smile pulled at Georg’s lips.</p><p>“No...” he whispered, watching as she started to come. “No, I won’t ever stop...”</p><p>Maria cried out, climax finally cresting; Georg ran his thumb over her mouth as if to capture the pleasure in his skin. </p><p>“Look at me,” he commanded, holding her chin as her spine arched, eyes locked.</p><p>Her virgin walls clamped around his fingers, and as her orgasm ripped through her, Georg almost told her everything.</p><p>How he loved her.</p><p>How he wanted her to stay.</p><p>How he wanted her to be his wife. </p><p>But he did not.</p><p>Could not.</p><p>Too afraid to accept the possibility that she could want in the way he wanted.</p><p>Love him as he did her.</p><p>As he held her close, second pouring forth, the waves of Maria’s orgasm began to ebb.</p><p>She shivered, gasping, hand gripping onto his wrist, his collar - anything to keep her steady.</p><p>“Look at me...” Georg hushed, stroking her cheek with immeasurable affection.</p><p>Maria’s eyes prickled at his beauty - his face alive with wonder, full of an admiration that sliced through to her spirit.</p><p>“<em>Have you had enough</em>?” </p><p>Slowly, Maria nodded and closed her eyes.</p><p>“Yes, sir…” she whispered, with an imperceivable smile.</p><p>She ran her palms up his chest, sighing while Georg slipped his hand from her skirts and circled it around her waist. </p><p>The two of them stayed like that for a while - as long as time would allow - breathing heavily, temple to temple, the scent of each other thick and comforting.</p><p>They knew soon they had to disentangle.</p><p>That this should never have happened.</p><p>And so they built a barrier to time, embracing each other loosely while they tried to harden themselves to fate.</p><p>All seconds now dissolved, Georg finally pulled away, unseeing as they silently agreed to lie to each other - and themselves.</p><p>He let Maria stroke his face while he smoothed her skirt.</p><p>He ignored the tenderness of her touch, unable to fit it with his narrative of their unrequited love.</p><p>Instead, he looked to the ground while he began to straighten his collar.</p><p>The crowd seemed louder now; the music nearer.</p><p>Maria leant against the pillar, watching his movements as a familiar sensation chased her pleasure. </p><p>“Am I wicked?” she asked earnestly after a moment. </p><p>Georg stilled and looked up at her with tenderness. </p><p>Her eyes were soft and serious.</p><p>“No more so than I,” he answered honestly, the two of them bare before the other.</p><p>Maria reached to tidy his hair, ignoring his attention while his gaze glanced across her face. </p><p>Finally, Georg took her hand in his own, passion now locked behind a steely facade.</p><p>“We have to go, Maria...”</p><p>She nodded in agreement and, unsteady on her feet, moved past him, oblivious to how his eyes slipped closed with longing.</p><p>-- But suddenly, the library door opened, light and noise flooding in behind their intruder. </p><p>Maria gasped, but Georg pulled her to him, shushing in her ear while her spine curved into the line of his chest.</p><p>He had his hand over her mouth and Maria’s heartbeat quickened at the feel of his body on hers.</p><p>A voice pierced the room.</p><p>Maria started. Georg did not.</p><p>“Hello?” a man called, the word echoing between the cases. </p><p>Georg lowered his lips to Maria’s neck, hand slipping between her thighs thickly. She graoned softly into his palm, sex still tender from his domination. </p><p>“Stay here, Fräulein,” he whispered. “At least until you can stand unaided…”</p><p>
  <em> Was that a smile, bruising her shoulder? </em>
</p><p>Walking self-assuredly, Georg left her, plucking a book from the shelves.</p><p>“Ah, <em>here </em> you are,” came Max’s voice as he disappeared out of sight. “What on earth are you doing? Everyone is looking for you!”</p><p>“Looking for this,” Georg coolly replied.</p><p>Maria leant back against the pillar and covered her eyes. She felt protected - safe - but still her pussy still spasmed, soaked and slightly sore. </p><p>And then there was shame.</p><p>
  <em> The insanity... </em>
</p><p>“<em>Honestly</em>, Georg,” Max censured. “What does it say about a party if the host is hidden away in the library reading stuffy old novels? It does not bode well, I tell you… And here I was hoping for at least one decent scandal before the night was through.” </p><p>“It’s for Herr Zedlitz,” Georg ignored, perturbed and keen to leave. “You’ll recall he is <em>quite</em> an important man. And he doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”</p><p>“Who does?” Max scoffed. “I say,” he quickly added, “have you seen that delightful little governess of yours? I am <em> dying </em> to speak with her.”   </p><p>“No,” Georg bluntly replied, the hairs on his neck prickling. “I have not.” He quietly replaced his glove, burying their sin. </p><p>“Very well,” sighed Max. “You <em> will </em> let me have a word with her won’t you…” </p><p>“I’ll do no such thing,” Georg rebutted, smoothing his lapel as they moved towards the door.</p><p>Impulsively, he threw a glance through the shelves, his fleeting glare catching Maria like honey and fire.</p><p>“Oh, Captain, <em> there </em> you are!” came a female voice.</p><p>Georg pulled the door closed behind him, flooding the room with blue. </p><p>“Baroness Schönborn, it’s been too long...” he charmed.</p><p>And so it went. </p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>